The Vengeful One
by AdamantAdmin213
Summary: Hate, and be hated. That is how Robin has lived his entire life. Shunned for the crime of birth, all that concerns him is his own survival. What will he do when he's dragged in the center of the Second Ylisse/Plegia War?
1. Chapter 1: Mercenary

Southtown

Wind blew gently across the plains surrounding the settlement. Normally, the blue sky would have been beautiful, the wispy white clouds puttering along with the wind.

Now, however, it was marred with many streaking of grey and black as ugly smoke rose from below, ashes spinning in the wind.

This was of no concern to the hooded traveler, whose attention was fixed on the parchment in his hand.

"Hm…5000 gold…." Robin muttered to himself in contemplation as he raised his sight back to the burning village. "Looks like he's here, then." He rolled the parchment up and slipped it back into his cloak pocket.

Now was the time to go to work.

* * *

Further east, a blue-haired noble trotted along, his head turned to the sky. He breathed deep, savoring the clean summer air. "Ahhhh. Nothing like fresh air."

"Yeah. Fresh air." A deadpan voice from beside him muttered. Turning, the noble met the eye of his blond sister, her pigtails swaying in the wind. "Yes Chrom, the fresh air is completely worth the sore feet." The sarcasm in her voice was painfully obvious.

Chrom chuckled as he responded. "Oh come on Lissa. It's not that bad."

The Ylissian princess shot a glare at her older brother. "We've been walking for days, Chrom. My legs feel like jelly."

"If you find these activities unpleasant, milady, perhaps you would be more comfortable back at the castle." This came from a rather tall and intimidating man clad in blue and white armour and leading a similarly armoured horse behind him.

Lissa turned to the knight with a pout. "Nice try, Frederick. You've been against me being here since the beginning."

"It would be safer for you-"Frederick attempted to argue.

"Frederick, just give up." Chrom told his retainer, grinning at the man's frustration. "You know she won't change her mind about coming with us. She is a Shepherd, after all."

"Yeah! I'll get used to this soon! I know I will." Lissa chimed in.

Frederick sighed. "We're almost to Southtown, Milady. You can rest there for a time before we return to the capital."

Lissa beamed. "Our first patrol as official Shepherds!"

Chrom smiled at his sister's enthusiasm. She was right, after all.

It had only been a few months since Emmeryn had agreed to fund his militia, and before now, he had been forced to remain in the capital, the Shepherds lacking the numbers for official patrols. But now, he had enough followers to leave the city while having a reserve supply of Shepherds for emergency use.

He had found a natural fighter and mage living in the capital during his search for recruits, as well as a few knights that had volunteered from his service.

"We'll keep the Halidom safe together, sis. I know we will."

"I know we-"Lissa's attention was caught on something behind her brother, something that made her face pale considerably. "Chrom, look!"

The prince spun on the spot, eyes widening as he saw pillars of smoke rising from ahead. "Southtown is burning! We have to go now!"

And the trio ran towards the source of the smoke.

* * *

Stealthily, Robin made his way through the narrow alleyways that snaked through Southtown, judging his surroundings.

A small band of brigands had apparently decided that this town was worth plundering, though Robin had no idea why. This was a farming community, and had little in the way of luxuries. Most likely, he decided, they were just out for blood.

And standing in front of the church, barking orders that mostly went unheeded, was the man the cloaked warrior was searching for.

Garrick. Known bandit leader and wanted criminal. Bounty of 5000 gold for his head.

' _My meal-ticket.'_ Robin thought to himself as he considered his options.

He didn't 'have' to defeat all the bandits. As long as he got Garrick, the rest would likely scatter. Beyond that, they weren't his concern. But there were still a rather large number of bandits roaming around, pillaging what remained of the market, barring his access to his target. What he really needed was a distraction….

"Stop, in the name of Ylisse!"

That voice, booming across the market brought Robin's attention to the far side of the square, where a trio of newcomers caught his eye.

One was clearly a Ylissian Knight, judging by the design of his armour and the military fashion in which he held his lance.

Behind him, oddly, was a short woman holding a basic healing staff in white-knuckled hands, shifting uncomfortably. She was wearing cleric robes bottomed in a rather large cage-skirt.

And at the head of this mismatched pair, was the man who had shouted moments before. He was shorter than the knight and was dressed in clothes that could only have been from a professional tailor. Grasped in his hand was a very ornate looking sword.

But it wasn't until he saw the Brand clearly on his arm that the hidden man knew exactly who he was.

Chrom. Prince of Ylisse and Captain of the Shepherds.

The bandits either didn't know who the man was, or did and didn't care. They stormed towards the group, weapons drawn and grins bloodthirsty.

What happened next made Robin's jaw almost drop.

The Prince and Knight charged straight ahead to meet the brigands head-on, leaving the cleric too far away to be of any assistance. Add to that, on top of the axe-wielding barbarians and sword-totting myrmidons, the brigand force happened to include a trio of mages, who wasted no time in flipping open their tomes and preparing to rain magic upon the oblivious Ylissians.

"Idiots…." Robin muttered to himself.

Basic survival skill. Look before you leap.

No, that wasn't it. The Prince had clearly seen the number of bandits, as well as the side alleyways he could have used to his advantage, but instead chose a frontal assault against foes who easily outnumbered him?!

Now they were too far into the square to safely retreat and the cleric couldn't come close enough to use her staff without placing herself in danger.

This did, however, work to Robin's advantage.

Seeing the young Lord had drawn away most of the brigands from the church, leaving only Garrick and a pair of myrmidons.

"Won't have a better chance…."

Robin emerged from his hiding place, stepping into the market and into view of his target.

Garrick immediately noticed his presence.

"Oi!" The barbarian shouted. "Who're you?!"

Robin didn't respond, his hand itching to grab his sword or tome, but he resisted the temptation. He was still outnumbered.

Something he needed to fix.

The Myrmidons sneered as they stepped towards him. "Looks like we've got ourselves a hero."

"Heroes don't exist." Robin spat in reply. "I'm here for my own reasons."

Garrick's lips twisted into a bloodthirsty smile. "Those reasons won't matter when you're dead!"

The myrmidons took that as the signal to attack, charging towards Robin with swords ready to slash.

Robin let them close, his hands dropping into his cloak and grabbing his weapons.

When his opponents were close enough, Robin struck. He lashed to his right with a foot, colliding with one man's knee with a crunch and a cry of pain as the poorly trained swordsman stumbled. As he did so, Robin brought his left arm out, bashing the other in the side of the head with the hilt of his sword. While they were both stunned by the sudden attacks, Robin slashed his blade across the closest brigand's throat while muttering an incantation, sending an orb of Thunder towards the other from his free hand.

Both myrmidons collapsed, much to Garrick's anger.

"You bastard!" He roared, his grip tightening around his hand axe.

Robin didn't react. If anything, he was pleased with this turn of events.

An enraged man was more prone to mistakes.

* * *

Chrom panted heavily, sweat dripping from his brow and Falchion hanging almost limply at his side.

He and Frederick had defeated most of the bandits that had rushed to meet them, but it was not without cost.

While Frederick seemed to be unharmed for the most part, his armor was now sporting a fresh scorch mark in the shoulder.

The real issue was Chrom himself. He wasn't as adept at dodging magic as his retainer, and had failed more than once at avoiding the spells that had been sent his way.

"Hold still, Chrom! This is hard enough without you fidgeting!" Lissa scolded, holding her staff aloft and summoning it's magic.

The Prince sighed in relief as the pain began to subside and strength once again found it's way into his muscles.

"Milord!" Frederick arrived at his side at that moment. His eyes hardened when he saw the blood-stains and fresh scars around the gashes in the prince's clothes. "The majority of the bandits have either fled or been slain. From what I saw, only the leader remains."

"Good." Chrom forced himself to stand straight. "Let's get over there and be done with this."

Before Chrom could take a step, however, Frederick blocked his path. "Hold a moment, Milord." The Great Knight narrowed his eyes, looking to the far side of the market. "It appears we're not alone in this endeavour."

Chrom followed his gaze before spotting the same thing. "Who is that?"

* * *

Robin grunted as his back made intimate contact with the cobblestone street before quickly rolling to his feet once more, narrowly avoiding an axe in the chest as Garrick brought his weapon down. The hand axe was slightly rusty and looked like it had been poorly sharpened, but a direct hit could still prove lethal to the lightly armoured man.

Garrick himself was now sporting a trio of shallow slash wounds across his torso, but none were deep enough to prove lethal.

As the barbarian continued his attack, Robin continued making a mental checklist of the man's qualities.

He had strength, but not the skill to know how to use it best, or the speed to effectively hit an evasive target.

Beyond that, the man had no style beyond blindly swinging his axe.

Predicable offence, no defence.

Now, Robin just needed to make an opening.

Luckily, his latest dodge had brought him close to what remained of a burning cart.

Robin waited as his opponent charged until they were barely feet apart. Then, trying to ignore the heat, he grabbed a handful of the burning ash and flung it into the brigand's face.

"AHH!" Garrick screamed, covering his face with a hand as the hot ash entered his eyes. He stumbled away, wiping his wrist across his eyes again and again.

Robin didn't give him the time to recover. He followed with a slash from his sword, the steel blade cutting though Garrick's tattered clothes, then though flesh before catching on bone. He yanked his blade back as Garrick collapsed to his knees, his axe forgotten as he clutched the terrible wound. He tried to scream, but the only sound that escapes in wet groan.

Robin didn't even pause. He brought his blade down once again, this time, piercing the brigand leader's heart. With a final cough, Garrick collapsed, his breaths stopping.

* * *

Chrom watched as the brigand leader fell, eyes locked on his killer.

The hooded man didn't seem to notice them, instead kneeling beside the dead man, like hunter examining his prey.

Slowly, Chrom moved closer to the figure, Frederick right beside him.

But both men froze when they saw what the figure did next.

Muttering some words too quietly for them to hear clearly, the figure summoned magic.

A pure black portal spread from below the body, the edge radiating thin streams of black smoke. The corpse slipped inside, and disappeared from view.

"Plegian magic…" Frederick muttered, his eyes hardening as the portal vanished.

"Let's not jump to concussions here, Frederick." Chrom insisted. "I should at least speak to him first."

Frederick clearly disliked the idea, but held his tongue as Chrom approached the man.

"Hello." Chrom called after a moment, internally wincing at the lameness of the word.

The man didn't respond, instead drawing himself up to his full height and slipping his sword back into the sheath inside his robe before turning away from the market, towards an alleyway.

"Hold sir!" Chrom called again, jogging towards the figure and grabbing his shoulder. "Did you not hear me before?"

"Yes, I heard you." The man responded, his voice showing his annoyance. "I simply did not want to speak with you."

Chrom was not used to being ignored intentionally. "Perhaps you will think differently after introductions. My name is-"

"I know who you are, Prince Chrom." Robin cut him off. "And I would greatly appreciate it if you would remove your hand."

Chrom released his grip, but frowned as Robin did not turn to look him. "I wanted to thank you for your assistance in this battle. Garrick could have proven difficult to defeat."

"Keep your thanks. I didn't do this out of the goodness of my heart, or to assist you." Robin responded, his tone clearly displaying his growing frustration. "If that is all, I will be on my way."

He barely made it three steps before Chrom grabbed his shoulder again. "Wait. Please."

Robin bit back a curse. "What?"

"Why are you so desperate to leave?" Chrom asked, his confusion evident. "All I want is to talk to you."

"I am not desperate." Robin informed him, turning to scrutinize the prince from under his hood. "And I have nothing to say to you. I want nothing to do with the Exalted family at all, in fact."

Chrom racked his brain, trying to think of something that could hopefully make this man less hostile, but found none. He was used to being treated with respect, admiration and small amount of intimidation. Being dismissed so forwardly was a new feeling to him.

Unfortunately, Frederick chose this moment to involve himself.

"And why should we allow a Plegian like yourself to go free?" The Knight asked, his eyes sharp enough to cut stone.

Chrom shot an irritated look at his knight. "Frederick, I told you I would handle this."

Fredick bowed to the prince, his body forming a perfect L before he straightened. "Forgive me, Milord, but I cannot allow this man to continue disrespecting you. Especially when he is clearly waiting for his chance to strike at you."

Now, Robin had had enough. He tilted his head back to meet the taller man's eye. From within the shadows of his hood, the only thing the knight could see were two burning jewels of red. "And what evidence do you have that I am planning to attack the prince?"

Frederick was not intimidated, and returning the glare with one of his own, pushing his vision to attempt catch a glimpse of the suspected Plegian's face. "Plegia had been making att-"

"I wasn't talking about Plegia." Robin snapped, folding his arms. "What have I, specifically, done that poses a threat against your prince?"

"So you don't deny being Plegian?" Frederick asked, his voice dangerously low.

"I am not Plegian, or Ylissian." Robin told them, turning away, prepared to leave.

"Than what are you?" Chrom asked, placing himself between the man and his knight.

Robin grit his teeth. "To your people, I am a mongrel. I am scum. I am Robin." He muttered another incantation and vanished in a brief flash of light.


	2. Chapter 2: No good deed

"Here you go, hon."

Robin nodded in thanks as he accepted a bottle from the bartender.

His trip back to Ylisstol had been uneventful, his teleportation spell cutting the trip in half and putting respectable distance between him and the Prince's party.

Now, he was enjoying his usual reward, a bottle of good alcohol. Or as good as 'Outcast' could get hold of.

That didn't stop Robin from pulling the cork out with a quiet _pop_ and taking a generous swig, savouring the burning sensation that sloshed down his throat.

He remembered how he had spent his morning.

* * *

" _Yep. That's Garrick, alright."_

 _The corpse of the brigand leader lay on the floor of one of the more run-down area's of the slums. Robin stood to the side, watching as it was examined by a bald man._

 _After a moment, the man stood, leaving the body and going behind a bar on the far side of the room, reaching behind it and placing a rather large purse on top. "Here's the bounty. 5000 gold."_

" _All of it?" Robin asked, his eyes narrow behind his hood._

" _Yes, yes. All of it." The man assured him, waving him off. "I remember what you did to Colden. I know better than to scam you."_

" _Good." Robin nodded as he turned to the door. "Pleasure doing business with you."_

* * *

Now, here he was, sitting in a small booth in 'Outcast', drinking alone. The few clientele the place had avoided him like the plague.

All but one.

"Robin." A familiar man greeted as he took a seat across from him.

Robin gave a small smile as he nodded, letting his white bangs fall into his face. "Mitch."

Mitch was of average height, with a mop of brown hair on his head. His handsome face was marred by a single scar, starting just under his left eye and curving around the left side of his head, disappearing under his head. The man wore a black, unadorned cloak that hung loosely from his muscular body. He popped his own bottle down beside Robin's.

"I heard you caught yourself a big fish, this time."

Robin nodded in reply. "Yep. 5000 gold worth."

Mitch whistled in response, grabbing his bottle. "Good payout for a day's work."

Robin nodded, gripping his own. "Yep. Covering my expenses, that's 3000 for leisure."

Mitch held a bottle out to his friend. "To a good day at work."

Robin smirked and clicked his bottle against Mitch's. "To a good day at work."

They both took a drink.

"So." Robin began. "What brings you back to Ylisstol?"

"Work, I suppose." Mitch replied nonchalantly. "Took care a few bounties. Nothing of importance."

"Thinking of heading back to Regna Ferox? The tournament is coming up this year. I thought you might want to take part in that."

"I'm thinking that too." Mitch sighed. "This country isn't exactly accepting of our kind."

"True that." Robin nodded before taking another drink.

They two friends continued talking, nothing of real importance entering the discussion, until the door flew open with a mighty _CRASH._

Standing in the doorway, looking completely exhausted, was a short woman. Her dark hair was in almost complete disarray and her eyes were filled with panic. She dashed into the tavern as fast as her small build would allow, casting terrified glances over her shoulder.

Robin recognized her immediately.

"Jodi? What happened?!" He demanded as he and Mitch stood.

Jodi sniffled, tears staining her cheeks. "Th-they-"

"There she is!"

Robin's attention was brought back to the door, as a trio of men entered the tavern. All three of them where wearing black clothes that were probably worn in an attempt to blend in, but the fine stitching and velvety material clearly marked them as part of Ylisstol's upper class.

The one Robin suspected to be the leader, judging by his air of entitlement, had his eyes locked on Jodi, who latched onto Robin's arm, burying her face in his cloak.

"Nowhere for you to run now, you little bitch."

"Leave her alone." Mitch hissed, his chocolate brown eyes burning.

The newcomer didn't seem afraid, raising his hands in mock surrender. "No need for offence, my good men." There was enough sarcasm in his final words to make Robin's hand slowly reach for his belt, towards his tome. "The boys and I just want the lady to join us for some fun."

Fresh tears boiled up from Jodi's eyes. "Th-they tried to…" She didn't have to finish. Robin could clearly see the tears in her clothes.

"Leave. Now." Robin spat.

Seeing that words weren't going to get him what he wanted, the leader of the upperclassmen's sarcastic smile fled into a demanding glare. "You think you can refuse me?!" He snarled, grabbing at Jodi. "Get over here, you Plegian whore!"

His fingertips made contact with Jodi's arm, but that was as far as he got.

Robin's fist collided with his stomach, sending the man sprawling face-first into a table. He didn't stay down long, however. He forced himself back onto his feet, a torrent of blood flowing from his nose.

"You bastard!" He screamed, grabbing an ornate sword that had been hanging from his waist.

Robin wasn't concerned in the slightest. He could tell that that blade had never seen battle, and the man's grip could only have come from a lifetime of being pampered, never putting effort into learning to wield it properly. Just a rich brat playing bad-boy.

As Robin suspected he would, the man swung wildly in his direction, not caring where he struck.

Robin very calmly muttered an incantation, coated his hand in Dark magic, and grabbed the blade with an open palm. With a firm tuck, he tore the blade from the man's grip, flipped it over once, and caught it by the hilt.

Now disarmed, the anger in the man's eye fled, replaced with cold terror as Robin pointed his new sword at his opponent's throat. He cast a desperate look at his companions, but they were of a similar mindset, especially when Mitch carefully opened his cloak, revealing the sword that rested on his hip.

"Please…" He begged, all bravado gone. "Don't…."

Robin moved the blade away, but just as the man breathed a sigh of relief, smashed the hilt into the side of his head.

"You pathetic bastard." Robin spat in the fallen Noble's face. He gestured to the door, his sneer not fading as the trio scrambled away.

"Willing to kill for what they want, but not ready to die for it." Mitch muttered with distaste. "Typical nobles."

"Yeah…" Robin sighed. "I'm going to head home, now. I'm tired. Can you-"

"I'll take care of Jodi." Mitch assured him. "Go get some rest."

"Thanks."

* * *

A crumbling building, a broken window and a pile of straw covered in cloth. That was home to Robin, or at least the closest thing he had at the moment. Not many places in Ylisse were willing to house a suspected Plegian, no matter how much he was able to pay.

"Home, sweet home." Robin muttered sarcastically to himself, tossing his sword belt aside and flopping down on his 'bed', looking up at the cracked ceiling. One of the larger openings sent a beam of moonlight straight into the room.

"Another day done." The cloaked man yawned, his eyelids growing heavy, before closing entirely.

This didn't last more than a few hours, however, before the door was thrown open, the rusted hinges cracking clean off the wall as a very large, heavily armoured man stormed into the room.

Robin was on his feet in an instant, his hand grabbing for his sword, only to remember he had removed his belt. He was reached for his tome when the knight's voice echoed from beneath his helmet.

"In the name of the Exalt, you're under arrest!"

Robin gritted his teeth, forcing his hand away from his tome. He wouldn't resist. He knew that this knight wouldn't be alone, that he would have a group of guardsmen waiting outside, ready to catch him if he ran and if he attacked the knight, he'd have no chance. He might take a few with him, but he would be cut down.

The knight seemed to accept this as a surrender, as he stormed over as seized the shorter man's wrists, twisting his arms behind him with much more force then necessary. "Too bad. I was hoping you'd resist."

"Sorry to disappoint." Robin hissed back as the knight applied a pair of shackles. They were clearly enchanted, as Robin could feel the magic in his body receding.

"Oh you'll be sorry soon enough, Plegian."

The Knight dragged Robin out of his home, after ripping the tome from his belt and throwing it to one of the guardsmen, who held in in clear distaste. Their trip could only have led to one destination.

Ylisstol Palace, home of the Exalted Family.

'The place of my death.' Robin thought bitterly as he was dragged through the gate and down a narrow, dank staircase, before being thrust into a small cell, hard enough to make his head crack against the stone wall.

"Get comfy." The knight sneered as he slammed the door shut behind Robin, who wiped at his forehead and the fresh blood dripping down it. "Tomorrow, your neck's gonna get a little massage, from the noose." Then he left, leaving the captive wanderer alone with his thoughts.

"Lucky me." Robin spat, pressing his hand against his head harder, trying to stop the crimson stream coming down his head.

The cell was bare, only a hard, narrow cot resting in the corner and a bucket beside it. Despite the events of the day, Robin lay back on his cot, not releasing the pressure on his head and ignoring the footsteps coming down the hall.

If he was going to die in the morning, he'd get one last good night's sleep before doing so.

"Hey." Called a voice from outside the cell. "Wake up."

Robin hissed. "What do you people have against sleep?"

The speaker chuckled in response. "Nice to see you too, Robin was it?"

The captive man turned to look at the speaker for the first time. "Prince Chrom."

"So your willing to talk to me now?"

"Not like I have much choice now. Your guards took my tome and I don't think they'll let me walk out of here." Robin replied, his tone deadpan.

"True enough." Chrom responded, tossing a cloth into the cell. "For your head." He was silent for moment, considering what to say. "I saw you get dragged in. They say you attacked a Noble."

"I bet they do."

"Did you?"

"Doesn't matter."

"It does to me."

"And why is that?"

"It effects my offer to you." Chrom folded his arms. "Now, tell me."

So Robin did. He told the prince everything that had happened that had led to his current situation.

By the end Chrom looked shocked. "Why didn't you tell the guards about this?"

"Wouldn't have mattered." Robin spat, turning over on his cot to look at the wall, holding the cloth to his still bleeding head. "Three Nobles, or, as your court will see it, a lowborn Plegian. Who would they believe?"

The answer shamed Chrom, mostly because it was completely true.

"So I defended my friend, and now I'm getting hung for it."

"Not necessarily." Chrom cut in. "I have an offer I would like you to consider."

For the first time since the Prince arrived, Robin turned to scrutinize him. "I'm listening."

"As you probably know, Plegia has been sending bandits into Ylisse, hoping to instigate a war with us." Chrom began. "In response, I've started building a force to counteract them."

"The Shepherds, I've heard."

Chrom nodded. "Yes. We've been having trouble gathering members, however. Very few Ylissians are able to fight outside the guardsmen."

A smirk threatened to break out on Robin's face. "Years of peace tend to do that."

"Yeah…." Chrom said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I saw you in Southtown. You wield that blade like a master, and have an understanding of magics that we simply don't. So, I was hoping you'd consider joining us."

Robin laughed for the first time in days. "Me? A Shepherd?"

"What's your alternative?" Chrom inquired, his posture tense. "Like you said, tomorrow you'll be hung."

Now Robin understood. "So your offer is what, Community Service?"

"Of a sorts." Chrom conceded. "I know it's a lot to take in. Think about it. I'll talk to Emm and be at your trial in the morning. Good night."

With that, Chrom left Robin to his thoughts.

 **A/N: Sorry, but something horrible has happened. I have the files saved for this fic on my external Hard-Drive, and when I plugged it in, it started acting funny. I have an I.T. friend who thinks he might know what's wrong, but until I hear back from him, The Vengeful One is on hold. Again, blame the hardware, not me.**


	3. Chapter 3: Goes unpunished

**I'm back! Sorry for the wait, but my hard drive died and I lost all my notes for this fic. At that time, I just lost all motivation to start again.**

 **But in other news, I have had this story developing in the back of my head for almost two whole years. Now, I have a plan to follow and, adding to that, I have taken a grand total of three different writing classes since then. So hopefully, this fic will be of better quality then my previous attempts.**

 **So without further delay, sorry for the wait, and welcome back.**

Robin hadn't slept a wink. He spent the night pacing in his cell, occasionally wiping his wet forehead with the, now completely crimson, cloth. He had lost count of the number of rotations he had made before the first glimmers of dawn made their way across the horizon.

It was just after the sun had begun it's long journey over the distant hills that the mercenary's attention was caught by the sound of a heavy door swinging and slamming shut, followed by the loud thumps of armoured boots across dirty stone until the same knight that had dragged Robin into prison burst into view, stopping just outside the bars.

"Is it time for breakfast already?" Robin asked sarcastically as the knight sorted through his keyring.

"Don't get smart with me, Plegian." The Knight snapped as he singled out one key from the rest. "Keep your hands where I can see them."

Robin complied, holding his hands up.

The knight jabbed the key and twisted the lock open, before pushing the door ajar. He stormed into the cell, grabbed Robin's upraised arm and twisted it roughly behind him.

Robin tried not to let his discomfort show as his wrists were bound in the same shackles as before, the joint popping painfully.

His captive now bound, the knight shoved the unarmoured my forward.

"Don't know why the Prince would put a word in for scum like you," The knight hissed. "Damned shame. I was looking forward to seeing you hang."

"You might still get the chance," Robin grunted as he tried not to stumble on the uneven stone.

The Exalt's Castle one of the oldest buildings in the Halidom, well over nine hundred years had passed since it's completion. Apparently, in those ancient times, the splendor of the public areas had to be in direct relation to dankness of it's underbelly.

The chipped stone and soggy air of the dungeons soon gave way to scrubbed floors and thick carpeting that wound, flanked on either side by polished marble pillars that must have taken an artisan years to carve.

None of it was any comfort for the prisoner. He kept his head down as he was shoved through the halls, letting his bangs fall into his face.

It wasn't long until they had reached their destination. A massive floor to ceiling door, flanked on either side by guards armed with cold iron lances swung open and the knight forced his prisoner inside.

Robin ignored every glare that was sent his way, keeping his eyes focused downwards, on the crimson carpet beneath his feet.

A few steps later, the knight stopped his constant shoves forwards, instead pushing the Plegian down, onto his knees.

"This is the man you mentioned, Brother?" A calm, gentle voice asked.

"Yes. This is Robin, Emm." A very familiar voice responded.

"Sir Cyrus, leave us."

The knight bowed, deeply, shooting one last glare at the bound wanderer before turning on his heel and marching out of the room, his muffled footsteps fading with distance.

"Raise your head, Robin. I would see your face."

The bound Plegian sighed heavily before forcing his head up to look at the speaker and for the first time, he saw his audience.

Chrom was present, as promised, standing to the left of the Ylissan throne.

Beside the prince, the same knight that Robin had seen alongside him in Southtown stood with arms folded behind his back and cold glare that would have sent a lesser man into hysterical confession. Unfortunately for him, Robin was not a lesser man.

Robin paused on the knight for a moment longer, taking in his features. He thought he recognized him from somewhere.

Dismissing the thought as unimportant, the captive moved his gaze to the other side of the throne.

A Ylissian Falcon Knight stood close to the Exalt's right, a silver lance in her hand, ready to act the instant the prisoner made a threatening move.

'Hard to do that when your hands are bound and your magic's sealed.' Robin thought sarcastically.

A woman in the garb of Ylissian mage pushed her glasses further onto her face as she looked down into the book in her hands.

Robin's tome.

The Plegian wasn't surprised. If the prince wanted him in his militia, he would want to know what he was capable of.

The other's identified, Robin turned his gaze to the occupant of the throne in front of him.

She was easily identified. The flowing robes, golden hair and the Brand in the center of her forehead made her unmistakeable.

Exalt Emmeryn herself.

The Exalt paused, taking in Robin's condition.

"What happened to your head?" She asked tentatively.

"Your knight cracked it against the wall of my cell." Robin bit back.

"You're lying," The knight accused.

The Exalt raised her hand before the knight could continue.

"Peace, please," She began before procuring a Psychic Staff from beside her throne.

Robin felt the familiar sensation of healing magic as the staff did it's work, the wound on his head rapidly closing. By the time the Exalt had finished her work, not even a scar remained.

Robin dropped his head. "Thank you, your grace."

Emmeryn smiled as she handed her staff to the Falcon Knight.

"Now, Robin. I want to hear your version of the events that led you here."

Robin grunted as shifted his weight.

"I was in the lower district. Having a drink to unwind after I finished work."

"And what kind of work do you do, pray tell?" the Knight challenged, his glare not moving for an instant.

"Depends on what I find." Robin replied. "Usually, I'm just a blade for hire."

"A mercenary." The Falcon Knight muttered in disgust. "Taking lives for coin."

Robin's gaze snapped to her. "Like you knights are any different."

"And just what do you mean by that?!" The Falcon Knight demanded, starting forward.

"Exactly what I said," Robin hissed.

"Phila, enough!" The Exalt raised her hand to placate the Falcon Knight before turning back to Robin. "Robin, I do not appreciate you provoking my personal guard."

Robin nodded, tearing his glare way from Phila. "I apologise, your grace."

"Thank you." Emmeryn gestured for him to continue.

Robin cleared his throat before he continued his story.

"I met with my friend at 'Outcast'. We talked for a while until another friend of mine, Jodi, ran in, pursued by a trio of nobles."

"And how do you know these three were of the Nobility?" Emmeryn asked, a hand to her chin in thought.

"The fabric of their cloaks, among other factors" Robin replied. "No commoner would have cloaks of that quality. Adding to that I saw that one of them wore an ornate signet ring. I warned them to leave Jodi alone, but they insisted, calling her, and this a direct quote, 'Plegian Whore.' So I punched one in the stomach. He fell on the table and cracked his face against the wood."

"And that's when you drew steel on him? To finish the job?"Chrom's Knight asked.

"Not exactly. The noble drew his weapon. I disarmed him and threatened them away." Robin replied.

"You disarmed him?" Chrom asked, speaking for the first time. "How?"

"Used magic. Covered my hand with it and grabbed the blade."

The Prince's eyes shot to the mage. "Muriel, is that possible?"

Muriel looked up from the tome in her hands. "Based on what I have gleamed from this tome, it is well within the realms of possibility." Her gaze travelled to the captive. "I must ask where you procured this marvellous tome. It is very difficult to locate such a diverse variety of incantations."

"I didn't buy it. I wrote it."

Emmeryn's eyebrow rose. "You wrote this tome? On your own?"

"Yes, your grace." Robin replied, trying to move his knees so they weren't pressing painfully into the stone floor.

"See what I meant, Emm?" Chrom turned to his sister. "I saw him use a blade in Southtown. He is a very capable swordsman and obviously he knows a lot about magic as well. He would be of great use to the Shepherds."

Emmeryn nodded in agreement. "I agree with you brother."

"Milady, please reconsider!" Chrom's Knight jumped in. "I can't believe you would believe this ridiculous story. He could very well be a Plegian Spy!"

"That's why we're taking precautions." Emmeryn's face dropped in regret as she turned to Phila, extending a hand. "The Rod, if you please."

The Falcon Knight handed the Exalt a long metal pole, similar to a cattle's brand.

Chrom's Knight over to the kneeling Plegian and seized his wrists, unlocking the shackles and forcing his left arm in front of him, palm up. The Knight pulled off the Plegian's glove and presented Robin's hand to the Exalt as she descended from her throne.

"Robin, as Exalt of Ylisse, I sentence you to community service. You will serve my brother as a Shepard until the end of the summer season." As she spoke those words, Emmeryn brought the end of the rod into contact with Robin's hand.

The Plegian's senses immediately began to scream in protest. A horrible pain arced it's way up Robin's arm as the rod was pressed harder into his hand. An agonized cry exploded from his lips as he tried to rip his arm back, only for the Knight to force it to remain in place.

Finally, after what felt like an age, the exalt pulled the rod back and the knight released his grip.

Robin immediately ripped his hand back, bringing his palm into view.

Burned into his hand was a mark, the symbol of Naga's church surround in a circle and then crossed with two straight lines. Forcing his hand closed, Robin hissed through the pain as Chrom stepped up to him, offering a hand to help him up.

"Come on. I have some people to introduce you to."

"Milord, I should accompany you." The knight advised as he returned to his lord's side.

"No, Frederick. Emmeryn needs you at the council. Fill me in later."

Frederick?

Robin's head shot up, taking in the knight's features.

It was all the same. The brown hair, the eyes, the posture.

This was him.

Had Chrom looked at Robin's eyes, he would have seen the fury that surged within.

'I've found him.' Robin told himself. 'And I will make him pay.'

'I swear to Grima. Sir Frederick will pay.'

* * *

The Shephard's Barracks was never quiet. The sounds of loud laughter were welcome to Chrom's ear as he pushed open the door.

Most of the militia was scattered around the room, until one of them noticed their leader's arrival.

"Chrom!" the blond fighter shouted as he stormed towards the prince, a grin spreading wide across his face. "You missed our match."

Chrom clapped the man's shoulder, smiling widely as he did so.

"Sorry about that, Vaike. Had some important business to take care of." The prince turned to the rest of the Shepherds, who were all slowly turning towards their leader. "Now, if I can have your attention, I have an important announcement to make."

The chatter in the barracks died down immediately.

"In the morning, I am taking most of you on a patrol along Ylisses southern border. We have reports of bandit activity in the area. We will make for the Farfort, follow the coast to the border, then follow the border to return to Ylisstol." Chrom informed his militia, holding his arms behind him. "Also, we have a new member for summer season."

"So Teach has got a new student?" Vaike's grin grew even larger. "Where's the new guy?"

Chrom released a breath he hadn't released he had been holding, turning back to the door he had entered from. "Come in, Robin."

The moment the Plegian entered the room, the cheerful atmosphere evaporated.

Vaike's fists clenched involuntarily. "This is a joke, right Chrom?"

"Vaike-" Chrom placed a hand on the fighter's shoulder, only for the larger fighter to shove it off.

"This has to be joke." Vaike's face twisted in anger as he past his commander. "We can't be despite enough to recruit one of them!"

"Vaike, enough!" Chrom ordered, forcing himself between the fighter and mercenary. "He's working with us on Emm's orders."

"What can a damned Plegian do to help us?" Vaike spat, folding his muscular arms. "This pipsqueak doesn't look like he can even lift a sword."

"Better a pipsqueak then a xenophobic barbarian." Robin spat.

"What did you say?" Vaike demanded, shoving Chrom out of the way.

"Just that I would rather have a weak body and a strong mind then a muscle bound, racist brute." Robin shrugged nonchalantly.

"Are you trying to die, Plegian?" Vaike hissed.

"Both of you, stop this now!" Chrom demanded.

"Is that a threat?" Robin asked, ignoring the prince's outburst. "I'm not one to back down from a challenge."

Vaike's grin returned, but there was no humor behind it. Only a cold anger. "You think you can take on the Vaike?"

Robin rolled his shoulders with an audible popping. "I don't think I can. I know I will."

"Robin, stop antagonizing him!" Chrom pushed his way in between to two again. "Both of you stand down."

"Come on, Chrom. Let me show the new guy whose boss around here." Vaike spat, not taking his eyes away from Robin.

"So the boss is the strongest warrior?" Robin asked, feigning ignorance. "If that's the case, I'll be in charge by the end of the day."

"That's it!" Vaike snarled, shoving Chrom out of the way. "You and me. Training yard. Right now."

Robin smiled, lazy confidence radiating from him. "Alright then. Let's get this over with."


	4. Chapter 4: Fighting the Fighter

"Can't believe they're actually doing this…" Chrom muttered to himself as he trailed behind the enraged fighter and conscripted Plegian.

The Shepard's training field was a fairly large affair, easily big enough for the small militia to train comfortably. The dirt floor was well tended and level. Training dummy's were leaning against the far wall and rack upon rack of training weapons were set up nearby.

Vaike stormed towards one of the racks, not hesitating for a moment as he ripped a large, wooden axe from it's housing and marching towards the center of the field, pumping his fist towards his fellow Shepherds.

"Take him down, Vaike!"

"Teach that brute some respect!"

"Knock him back to where he came from!"

Robin paused in front of the rack, considering his options.

Chrom stepped up alongside the Plegian, grabbing his shoulder.

"Robin, I'm sorry about Vaike. I should have-"

"Don't." Robin cut the prince off without turning, his voice coldly indifferent. "There's nothing you could have done. You can't just order someone not to be biased."

"But you could get hurt doing this." Chrom informed firmly. "Vaike is a skilled warrior and-"

"Please." Robin spat. "It's not me you should be worried about."

"HEY!" Vaike boomed from his place on the field. "What's the matter, Plegian?! Afraid of the Vaike?!"

Robin ignored the fighter's taunts as he made his weapon selection.

Chrom paused. He had been expecting Robin to select one of the various swords that lined the racks, not a five-foot long, double-headed pole-axe.

The Plegian marched onto the field opposite Vaike, giving the wooden weapon a practice swing.

Vaike's grin returned as he cracked his knuckles. "Ready to lose, Plegian?"

Robin continued to ignore the bile his opponent flung. He closed his eyes, breathed deep, and exhaled as he opened them, getting into a ready stance.

Chrom moved onto to the side of the combatants. "This will a fair match." He commanded, locking eyes with Vaike. "The victor will be whomever can force his opponent to yield, or whomever draws first blood." The prince turned his attention to Robin. "There will be no use of Magic, spells or enchantments, clear?"

Robin nodded. "Clear."

Chrom raised his arm above his head in preparation. "Let the duel begin."

The moment the prince's arm dropped, Vaike dashed forwards, bringing his weapon down in a vertical chop and snarling at the top of his lungs.

Robin counted the seconds, holding his stance.

Twenty feet….

Ten feet…..

Five…

When Vaike was almost on top of the Plegian, Robin acted.

Spinning to the side, he avoided Vaike's strike and used his momentum to bring his fist into the back of Vaike's head.

The fighter was sent sprawling, face first, into the dirt.

Vaike hissed, pounding the ground with a fist as pushed himself up and flung himself at the Plegian again, snarling in fury.

Again, Robin avoided the strike with a well-timed side step, his confidence not shaken in the slightest as Vaike stumbled past.

A furious roar exploded from Vaike's lungs as he leaped into the air for another chop.

Robin shook his head in annoyance as he avoided the strike.

"Hold still, you damn coward!" Vaike spat as he started forward for another offensive. "Too scared to fight like a man?!"

Robin stopped where he was, adjusting his grip on his weapon and readied himself.

"Fine." He sighed. "Let's get this over with."

Vaike forced himself to run even faster, bringing his weapon up…

…only to be caught in the stomach as Robin swung his pole-axe horizontally, the weapon's long shaft easily making up the distance between the two.

The fighter was sent sprawling onto the ground, losing his grip on his axe as Robin twirled his weapon, building momentum for another horizontal swing, catching Vaike in the stomach and knocking him flat onto his back.

"Is that your best?" Robin asked, as Vaike struggled to breathe air back into his bruising chest. "Because I've fought brigands with more skill then this."

* * *

Chrom grimaced in sympathy as Robin brought Vaike down once again. It was strange, seeing the differences between the two's styles.

Vaike had never been one for finesse or strategy. He threw himself into the fray over and over again until his enemy was defeated, using only his brute strength and determination and his axe-work reflected that mindset. He swung as hard as he could, as often as he could, but did little else.

Robin on the other hand, was almost the exact opposite. His control of his weapon was amazing to witness. Not a single motion was wasted, adding power to another strike or deflecting one of Vaike's crude chops away. Half the time he didn't even use his weapon to attack, instead using his fist or leg to trip or knock the fighter down.

"The new guy's pretty good."

Chrom turned to see a green armoured knight with a severe case of bed-head walking out of the barracks to stand at his side, munching on an apple.

"He is." Chrom agreed. "Didn't know he could use an axe."

The knight winced as Vaike took another firm blow to the torso. "Well, we do now…" The prince trailed off. A thought had occurred to him. "Stahl, I have a job for you."

* * *

Robin parried another strike from his opponent, his disappointment growing by the moment. While he hadn't intended to be forced into Ylisse's Militia, he had held onto the hope that the Shepherds wouldn't be completely hopeless.

If Vaike was any indication, this illusion was soon to be shattered.

The Plegian went over his metal checklist.

Strength? Present.

Magic Potential? Non-Existent.

Skill? Lacking.

Speed? Below Average.

Endurance?

Robin paused, watching as Vaike forced himself to his feet once more, despite the numerous dark bruises that now covered his torso.

Average.

Robin had seen everything he needed to. Bringing his axe into a ready stance, Plegian prepared to end the match.

This time, the Plegian met the Fighter's attack head on, twisting the wood in his grasp and locking the two weapons together, bringing the two combatants face to face.

"You fight like a bandit." Robin hissed into Vaike's face.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY!?" Vaike roared, as he tried to dislodge his weapon.

"You fight like a bandit." Robin repeated. "All brawn, no brains."

Before Vaike could retort, Robin slammed his head forward, smashing his forehead into the fighter's nose.

Vaike stumbled back, his weapon forgotten as he clutched his face.

Crimson liquid oozed from between the fighter's fingers as he grasped his newly broken nose.

The Plegian didn't spare him another glance, instead turning towards the prince, who had been watching with wide eyes at Robin's audacity.

A duel was supposed to be honorable, two warriors meeting in a contest of skill and strength. Good natured insults might be acceptable, if frowned upon, but the prince couldn't find a trace of teasing in Robin's voice. There was no respect, no acknowledgement of Vaike as a worthy opponent. He truly meant every word he said, including the insults.

"Well?" Robin asked expectantly.

"W-What?" Chrom asked, breaking his internal monologue.

"I believe that I have drawn first blood." Robin replied.

Chrom nodded awkwardly, stepping onto the field and raising his arm to signal the end of the match. "This duel is over. Robin is vic-"

"AAHH!" Vaike screamed, throwing himself at the Plegian and disregarding Chrom's words. His fist collided with the side of Robin's head, sending him reeling and making him lose his grip on his weapon.

Taking advantage of the first strike he had managed to land, Vaike seized Robin around his throat, his meaty hands tightening around the Plegian's windpipe.

"Vaike, let him go!" Chrom demanded, rushing towards his self-proclaimed rival.

Vaike threw the prince off with a single swipe of his muscular arm as he tightened his grip even more, reveling in the rough coughs the Plegian made as he futilely tried to pry his hands off.

He was so focused on straggling the life out of the Plegian that he didn't notice Robin seize his arm until the Plegian brought his fist into the fighter's elbow as hard as he could.

With a loud snap and a scream of enraged agony, Vaike's hands released Robin's throat, his arm bent at an almost ninety degree angle from the norm.

Robin fell to his knees, taking deep lungful's of air and blinking hard as the dots vanished from his vision, reveling Vaike clutching his broken arm and screaming in agony.

A great and furious energy filled his limbs as he tackled the fighter with his full body weight behind him.

Vaike collapsed onto the ground as Robin seized the hilt of his discarded axe.

"Robin, enough!" Chrom ordered as he forced himself back onto his feet.

Robin raised the wooden weapon high over his head.

"TIA!" Chrom shouted in desperation.

It started a slight burning in his left hand, but moments later, it grew into a horrible pain that raced down his arm until it engulfed Robin's entire body.

He dropped the axe, clutching his hand to his chest as he legs buckled out from under him, hissing in pain as the enchantment tore though him.

Robin cursed to himself. He had forgotten the purpose of the rod the Exalt had used on him.

It was an enchantment commonly known as Naga's Servitude. It bound any who it was forced on to serve the whims of the Exalted Blood. If someone were to disobey, or perform any action against the desires of the royal family, the mark would 'make their bodies burn with Naga's flame' at the moment the trigger word was said.

Robin had always thought that those words were only rhetoric to make the magic sound more artistic.

Now, however, he found it hard to deny it.

The Plegian had been hit with various Fire spells, but none of them even came close to the agony that coursed through his body at that moment.

It was too much.

Robin blacked out.

* * *

Tarp. Motion.

Cart.

Robin pushed himself into a sitting position, looking at his surroundings.

We had been lying on top of a crate in the back of some kind of cart. It was clearly moving, judging the clinking he could hear in the crate's beside him.

Finding his balance, the Plegian pushed the tarp open, shielding his eyes from the sun's harsh rays.

"Oh! You're awake."

Robin's attention was brought to a green armored knight riding alongside the cart.

"Who are you?" Robin asked, gingerly touching the brand on his palm and pulling his hood over his head.

"My name is Stahl." The cavalier replied. "Chrom ordered me to watch you."

"Didn't expect anything else." Robin nodded, climbing out of the cart, running to catch up to the cart and falling into step alongside Stahl.

They marched in silence, until the tension finally broke Stahl's composure.

"I saw you match with Vaike." He began.

Robin didn't respond, but turned to look up at the cavalier.

"Did you have be so brutal with him?" Stahl asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

"Did he have to try to strangle me?" Robin replied.

Stahl didn't have an answer to that.

"Tried to kill me, so I responded in kind," Robin explained cynically. "It's as simple as that."

"Can you really justify that to yourself like that?"

"Have you ever been in a battle?"

Stahl paused, uncertain where this conversation was leading, but seeing no harm in replying.

"Yes, I have."

"Have you ever killed a man before?" Robin asked, much too casually for the cavalier's liking.

"Yes." Stahl flinched at the words remembering the handful of battles he had been a part of.

"Why?"

"Because they were trying to kill me." Stahl admitted, now seeing the point Robin had been trying to make.

They fell into silence until Robin realized something important.

"Where is my tome?" He asked.

"I have it," Stahl replied, gesturing to a back hanging from his saddle, alongside Robin's sword belt. "Chrom told me to only give them to you if we find bandits."

Reasonable. Robin thought.

They resumed marching in silence.

* * *

" ' _eres the wee piglet!"_

Donnel yelped as an axe smashed into the tree he had been peeking out from behind. Scrambling up, he ran as fast as his legs would carry him, the bandit in hot pursuit.

Minutes of running later, Donnel burst out of the treeline of the forest and sprinted towards the main road.

Apparently, Naga had heard his babbled prayers.

Coming down the road was a large group of people, escorting an ox-drawn cart.

Donnel rushed towards the man at the helm, ready to beg for help…

 _THUD!_

…Only to find his path blocked by a very large and very intimidating armoured horse.

Suddenly very intimidated, Donnel forced himself to look up.

The Great Knight's armour was polished to a shine. In the sun, it was as if the villager was standing before one of Naga's Holy Guard.

"State your business." The knight ordered, his grip on his silver lance loose and ready to strike.

"Frederick, stand down." The leader ordered, stepping around the war horse.

Now that he could see the man's arm, Donnel knew who he was.

"Prince Chrom! Please help me, your royaln-"

" _There 'e is!"_

Donnel spun to see the duo of bandits that been pursuing him burst out of the tree line.

Chrom's hand found Falchion's hilt, shoving Donnel behind him.

" _Oy! Who're you?!"_ one of the bandits hissed. _"Why don't you all jus-"_

A beat.

" _Aw, Damn it! Shepherds."_

"That's right." Chrom replied. "Know what'll it be? Run and live? Or fight and die?"

The two bandits turned tail and ran.

"That was foolish."

Donnel froze. That voice almost sounded like…

The prince turned to a hooded figure, who was standing with arms folded alongside a mounted cavalier.

"What?" Chrom asked, confused.

"Letting those bandits run," The figure replied.

'That cloak…' Donnel's mind was quickly putting the pieces together.

"How was it foolish?" The Prince demanded. "They left us, and no blood was spilled."

"No blood was spilled here." The hooded man corrected. "Those two aren't going to just run for the hills and stop causing problems. They are running back to their leader, most likely to tell him that the Prince of Ylisse is nearby." He gestured to Donnel. "Now, if he's smart, he'll be getting ready for our group to attack. So in effect, Prince Chrom, you've just cost us the element of surprise."

Donnel couldn't handle it anymore.

He jumped towards the hooded man and yanked the hood down.

A broad smile spread across the villager's face.

"Robin!" He cried, pulling the taller man into an embrace. "It is you!"

 **A/N: So I've changed Robin's backstory from the game. Read the next chapter for more information.**

 **Now, I've tried to avoid making Robin a Mary Sue. He's still human…ish.**


	5. Chapter 5: Farfort

Chrom watched the scene unfold, trying to understand what he was seeing.

His conscripted Plegian, was trying half-heartedly to pry the Villager off, only for the boy's grip to return twice as strong as before.

This went on for several moments, until Frederick had apparently had enough. He seized the Villager by the arm and roughly pulled him back, earning a yelp from the young man.

"Keep your distance, citizen." Frederick ordered. "This man is a dangerous criminal."

"Criminal?" The Villager's face twisted in confusion, as if the knight's words didn't make sense to him. "Robin ain't a criminal, you knightliness."

"Donnel, don't bother trying to reason with him." Robin told him, sighing. "So what's all this about?"

Donnel's attention snapped to the prince, the joy that had moments ago overwhelmed him shattering as he remembered why he had been running.

"Please, you've got to help them, Your royalship!" He cried, falling to his knees before the prince as tears began to build in his eyes. "Them no-good bandits attacked my home! They took my ma, Your Highness!"

"All right, then." Chrom nodded, a fierce determination building in his eyes. "Can you show us where they took them?"

Donnel nodded so fast Robin was afraid his eyes would be thrown from their sockets. "Yep. They took them to the old fort of yonder way."

"Into the Farfort?" Robin asked, putting a finger to his chin.

"Yep." Donnel grabbed Robin's arm, tugging him towards the structure in the distance. "Come on Robin! You have to save ma!"

"I know. Donny, I'm coming. You don't have to pull me. I can walk on my own. Donny, Let me go for Grima's sake!" The sound of Robin's protests grew more and more irritated as the Villager dragged him away.

"Okay then." Chrom began, after a moments pause. "I guess we should follow them."

* * *

"Yep….Just as I thought." Robin muttered to himself, taking the sight before him from his concealed position.

The Farfort had been built to serve as a stronghold on Ylisse's South-Eastern border. A sizable garrison could have lived comfortably within, ready to defend any of the numerous settlements in the area at a moment's notice.

That was before Exalt Emmeryn came to power, dismantled her Halidom's military, and left the numerous forts to fall into disrepair.

Now, all too often, these formidable structures were home to bands of armed brigands.

Robin shook his head, sighing heavily. Just as he predicted, these brigands were expecting them. They prowled around the fort, carrying torches and weapons.

The Plegian did his best to get a sense of their numbers and position. The fact that they had overrun a village didn't tell him much. Any small group of armed men took take a village hostage in this practically unguarded nation.

"Twelve fighters….three myrmidons….four archers….no mages…" Robin muttered to himself as Chrom and his Shepherds caught up with them.

"Are the Villagers being held in that fort?" the Prince asked as he drew Falchion.

"Yep. They're in there, your graceship." Donnel confirmed.

"What are we waiting for then?" A red haired knight demanded, pulling a bronze lance from her saddle. "I'm ready to kick some ass."

Chrom nodded. "Alright, everyone get ready. We charge on my signal."

"Wait." Robin quietly cried, shooting a worried glance back to the fort. "There's a better way in then the front gate."

"The hell are you talking about, Plegian?" The knight demanded, pointing her lance towards him and scowling in disgust.

"Sully, calm down." Chrom ordered before turning back to Robin. "Explain."

"The front gate is being watched." The conscript gestured towards the fort. "Try going in that way and you'll have every bandit in the place on you in minutes."

"So what?" Vaike snorted, folding his arms. "We can handle a few bandits, Plegian."

"Oh really?" Robin shot back. "Can you handle them all before one of them starts a hostage situation?"

Everyone present froze. They hadn't considered that.

"Charge in swords swinging and the villagers we're here to save **WILL** be dragged into this." Robin informed his audience, some of whom were glancing at the fort in concern, unsure of their next move. "They obviously don't care about a fair fight if they raided a town."

"What can we do then?" Stahl asked hesitantly, shifting his weight in his saddle.

"Divide their attention." Robin said simply. "Break into smaller groups and head to different entrances. Move fast and reach the prisoners as quickly as possible, while slipping in a few individuals to guard them in case one of these bastards gets a bright idea."

"And how do you know of these other entrances?" Frederick pounced, as if he had been waiting for Robin to make a mistake.

"Because I spent seven years living near here, Knight." Robin shot back.

"So you know where these other entrances are?" Chrom asked.

"Yes." Robin nodded. "There's one on the far side, about two hundred meters from the end and another opening on the opposite end."

"Do you have any idea where the prisoners might be?"

"The storeroom in the center of the compound. It's the only place large enough that's still secure."

"Then we have our plan."

* * *

Robin, and Stahl kept to the treeline, abandoning the cavalier's horse for the improved stealth and moving towards a collapsed wall of Farfort. The knight had returned Robin's tome and, after a short debate, handed Donnel one of his spare lances before following after the prince.

The plan was rather simple. The Shepherds would divide into two groups and create a distraction at two separate entrances, allowing the three of them to slip in and rescue the hostages before the bandit's thought to use them.

Several people had protested when Robin proposed the idea, specifically, the prince's bodyguard. Frederick had objected to him regaining his weapons in the presence of the royal sibling and insisted that the be one the attempt to rescue to civilians. Despite his belief that Robin was plotting against them, the civilians were already captive by a band of armed murderers. One more or less couldn't make the situation worse for them and seeing as Chrom had ordered him to watch Robin, Stahl was sent to accompany him.

"Alright." Robin muttered quietly. "The prince and his group should be-" He stopped talking, flattening himself in the shadows that surrounded him as a trio of brigands stormed past, heading towards the other end of the fort.

"-doing their job," he finished, picking himself up and moving towards a the opening, taking a quick glance inside.

Sure enough, his prediction had been correct. The townspeople from Donnel's village were bound at the wrists and ankles, but it didn't look like they had been used there long.

Besides the villagers, the room was deserted. Apparently whomever was supposed to be guarding them had run off to join their fellows fighting the prince.

With a relieved sigh, the Plegian climbed over the waist high rubble and rushed to the nearest villager, examining the ropes binding their wrists.

"How does it look?" Stahl asked, keeping a careful watch on the far door.

"Cheap rope, poorly tied." Robin replied as he skillfully undid the knot. "Knight, start on those three." He gestured towards a trio a short distance away.

As Stahl rushed off to fulfill the Plegian's instruction, Robin finished freeing the first, gesturing towards the collapsed wall before moving on to the next.

As he finished his fifth, a sound caught Robin's attention. Loud, frantic, footsteps.

"Get ready, Knight." Robin quietly called to Stahl.

The Knight drew his sword as the door flew open, crashing against the wall hard enough to break the rusted hinges.

The man who stormed in was undoubtedly a bandit. He lacked a shirt to cover his heavily scarred chest, only a ratty fur cape that was much too small for his body covered his shoulders.

For some reason, he had a smear of what looked like crushed berries across his stomach with two swipes under his wide, panicked eyes.

"Damn it! How'd you get back here?!" He cursed, seizing a sizable steel axe from his back. With a roar of desperation, he leaped towards Robin, bringing his weapon down with as much force as he could.

Robin jumped back, putting as much distance between them as he could, already reciting his incantation.

A small orb of lightning gathered in his palm before shooting towards the bandit.

The brigand leaped aside with surprising speed before charging Robin again.

The Plegian cursed as he evaded another swing, wishing he had requested a sword before they had separated from the group. This bandit was on another level from Garrick. His strength surpassed the now deceased criminal, but he also possessed a surprising amount of speed and control of his weapon. This man had weapons training, most likely former military.

Robin threw a few more small spells towards his opponent, careful only to release them if they wouldn't impact the numerous prisoners that remained trapped in the room, or his comrade, whom had decided to enter the fray.

"You are so dead!" Stahl cried, slashing his bronze sword across the brigands back, prompting a roar of pain as his opponent stumbled forwards.

"Thanks, Knight." Robin called as he shot another Thunder spell into his downed opponent's chest.

The bandit was sent crashing into the wall behind them, a scorched hole where his heart used to be.

The Plegian gestured towards the knight door as he turned back to his the villagers, who had been watching the events with wide eyes.

"Keep watch for anymore unwanted guests."

* * *

"So, you know them?"

Robin glanced up from his book.

Chrom had managed to disentangle himself from the dozens of thankful villagers, all of whom were eager to convey their gratitude to the prince and his militia as they were escorted back to their village.

"Yes, Prince. I do." He said simply, returning to his book.

"How?" Chrom asked. "You don't seem like the social type?"

"And just what do you mean by that?" Robin asked indignantly.

"Nothing! Nothing at all!" Chrom exclaimed, trying to recover. "Please. I meant no offence. You just don't seem the type to be close to people."

"Well, I am." The Plegian stated firmly, turning a page.

Chrom never knew how to react to Robin's attitude towards him. As crown prince, he was well used to being treated with the respect worthy of his station.

He liked to think that he had earned that respect, but deep down, he knew that if he wasn't of Exalted Blood, it would be much harder.

Robin, on the other hand, didn't seem to care. He had made it very clear that the only reason he was with the Shepherds was because of the mark Emmeryn had put on his hand. The mark that faded a little more each day as the deadline drew nearer.

The Prince was hoping that, maybe, if he got Robin to truly open up, the Plegian might find the Shepherds welcoming enough to stay with them. They didn't have anyone who could match the tall Plegian's skill set.

Gifted mages were difficult enough to come by, has most Ylissians didn't see much need to learn combat magic. Clerics and other healers were openly educated and trained under Emmeryn's orders, but they could only heal wounds, not prevent them.

Vaike was one of the most respected of the Shepherds and Chrom would admit the fighter was one of his strongest warriors. But Robin had taken him down without half trying, using the same weapon with incredible skill.

If war with Plegia was inevitable, the prince needed men like Robin.

"I've been meaning to ask." Chrom tried again, changing the subject. "Where did you learn to fight? I've seen you use magic, but also swords and axes. It's rare to find such a versatile warrior."

"My teacher thought me a lot, I agree." Robin replied, closing the book and slipping it into his pouch. "He was a real hard ass."

Now he was getting somewhere.

"And who was your teacher?" Chrom asked.

The moment those words lift the prince's lips, he knew he had gone too far.

Robin's expression didn't change, but Chrom could see the irritation in his eyes.

The Plegian didn't get a chance to reply, however, before a new voice grabbed their attention.

"Robin!"

Running towards them was an older woman. She was a villager, of that there was no question.

She came to a halt in front of Robin, her head barely reaching his chest, but she leaned back and looked up, into the Plegian's face. Tears of happiness began to push their way into her vision.

"Is it really you?" She asked, as if afraid the answer wouldn't be what she hoped.

"…yes." Robin replied quietly.

The tears that had been building in the woman's eyes found the strength to fall as a choked laugh tore itself from her lips. She pulled Robin against her, hugging him as tight as she dared. Several moments later, she felt Robin tentatively return the embrace.

"My Little boys home!"


	6. Chapter 6: Past Life

The short march back to the village was fairly uneventful. Despite the Prince's numerus attempts, Robin refused to continue their conversation. The Plegian had been pulled aside by the villager. Chrom watched as they talked, surprised that Robin had expressions other than irritated or angry.

As they arrived, Robin was dragged off towards one of the houses. Chrom tried to follow, to call for him, only to be blocked and his voice drowned out by the grateful villagers.

* * *

A nostalgic smile found it's way onto Robin's face as he pushed open the creaking wooden door.

Everything was exactly where he'd left it.

Thick layers of dust had settled onto everything from the books on the single shelf to the wooden sword leaning against the wall.

"I haven't been in here since you left."

Robin turned, his smile growing.

She might have been older, a few more wrinkles marking her face, but it was still her.

"Aunt Caroline."

Caroline glanced around the room, her smile never leaving her face.

"What have you been doing, Robin?" She asked. "You've been gone for years."

"Traveling." He replied with a shrug. "Training. Killing bandits."

"I see." Caroline nodded, unamused. "And you were too busy doing that to come back and visit?"

"You know why I couldn't do that, Aunty. You know what would have happened."

"Robin." She sighed heavily as a familiar argument resurfaced. "It's been years. So much has changed since then."

"Not enough." Robin's blunt reply was not unexpected. "It doesn't matter how much time passes. People don't change that much."

Robin….." Caroline sighed, giving up the argument and pulling the tall Plegian into another embrace.

"No matter what anyone says, this is your home, Robin."

Robin smile fled as quickly as it had come.

"I wish it was."

* * *

The Shepherds had set up camp a short distance from the village. Sun had almost finished its decent, leaving less than a half-circle visible.

Chrom yawned loudly, covering his mouth. It had been a long day.

"Milord!"

Frederick jogged over, his ever present frown growing more severe.

"Yes Frederick?" Chrom asked as the knight came to a halt.

"All the Shepherds are accounted for, but the prisoner has vanished."

"The 'prisoner' has a name, Frederick." Chrom reminded him.

"Of course, milord." The knight bowed. "But that doesn't change the fact that he is unaccounted for."

It was no secret that Frederick had not approved of Chrom's decision to conscript Robin. It had taken Emmeryn's word to force the knight to accept it. Even then, the knight had raised the issue time and time again, hoping the prince would change his mind. Each time, Chrom had refused, but this was new.

"He's probably still off with that villager." Chrom replied, climbing to his feet.

Frederick flinched. "A villager, milord?"

Chrom glanced towards his bodyguard. "Frederick, he knows these people. I don't know how, but he does."

"All the more suspicious." Fredrick muttered, following after his liege.

The duo walked through the village, glancing at the villagers as they worked to repair their homes.

It wasn't long until they found whom they had been searching for.

Robin raised a hatchet over his head before bringing it down with a hard chop, splitting a log in two.

"Plegian!" Frederick demanded, storming towards him. "Drop your weapon!"

Robin barely glanced in the knight's direction as he positioned another log.

Frederick's teeth clenched in anger as he stormed forwards, intent on seizing the offending weapon.

Robin apparently had different ideas.

The instant the knight's and clamped down on his shoulder, the Plegian spun, swinging his fist around. With a grunt and a bloodied lip, the knight fell to the ground.

With nary a glance, Robin returned to his task.

"Robin!" Chrom demanded, storming towards the Plegian. "That was unnecessary."

"Not from my perspective." Robin spat, splitting another log.

"Robin!"

Caroline jogged over, panic wide in her eyes.

"Stay back, madam!" Frederick ordered as he climbed back to his feet. "We will deal with this criminal."

Caroline's eyes widened before she stepped closer to the knight, glaring up into the taller man's face.

"What did you call him, sir?" She asked.

"I called him what he is." Frederick replied, folding his arms behind him. "A criminal."

 _Smack!_

Caroline's palm smacked against the knight's face, the sound ringing out from the blow.

"My boy is not a criminal, sir!" She shouted straight into the knight's face, fury burning in her eyes.

"Don't bother trying to tell him that, Aunt Caroline." Robin said dismissively. "His kind are beyond reason."

"And just what do you mean by 'my kind'?" Frederick demanded.

"Peace, please." Chrom tried to defuse the situation, glancing towards the villager. "Caroline, was it?"

She nodded.

"Can we please just go somewhere and talk about this?" The prince tried, forcing himself between his knight and the villager.

"I'm not leaving my boy with this brute." Caroline hissed.

"Frederick, come with us." Chrom ordered, sending the knight a hard look.

* * *

Caroline led the two Shepherds into her home, closing the door behind her.

The house was plain enough. A simple sink, dinner table with a small candle arrangement and few pictures on the walls.

Taking a seat, Caroline, gestured to two empty chairs on opposite her.

"So." She began. "What do you want to know?"

"Well…" Chrom considered for a moment. "How long have you known Robin?"

Caroline paused for thought. "About eighteen years now."

"Really?" Frederick's voice dripped with suspicion. "And just how old was he at the time?"

"He was seven, if you must know." Caroline shot back before sighing. "If you want to know about Robin, I'll have to tell you the full story."

"Please do." Chrom encouraged.

* * *

 _Caroline hummed to herself as she traveled, her cart clattering along._

 _Every year she made the trip to the capital for the harvest festival and this year was no different, despite the slim choice of crops. With the Exalt conscripting farms by the hundreds, the fields weren't being tended. Most of Ylisse's southern farmland was little more than weed infested fields of rotting crops._

 _If Ylisse was going to survive, the Exalt needed to be stopped. Whispers of a rebellion had reached her village, but nothing concrete had been established._

 _Caroline shook her head. It didn't matter what the peasantry thought. The Exalt's 'holy war' had the backing of the church. As long as they supported him, the war would continue._

 _"Damned fanatics." Caroline muttered, pinching her brow._

 _Naga only knew what had led her to do that._

 _As she moved her gaze across the road, she noticed something that hadn't been there when she followed this path before._

 _Laying at the roadside was a bundle of black cloth._

 _Caroline frowned, bringing her horse to a halt and dismounting her cart._

 _As she got closer, she began to make out more details._

 _The cloth wasn't completely black. A series of purple marking ran down it's sides._

 _But more importantly it wasn't just a bundle of cloth. From her position, she could see the tangled mop of white hair and very red face._

 _Caroline rushed to the fallen figure, hurrying to roll him onto his back._

 _It was a child, roughly seven or eight. His skin was flushed red, beads of sweat working their way down his face._

 _Caroline only had to place her hand on the child's head to confirm her theory. The boy's head was almost too hot to touch._

 _Slipping her arms around his back and knees, hoisting the child up and carrying him towards her cart._

" _Don't worry." She whispered. "I've got you."_

 _The child groaned, shifting in her grip, but did little else._

 _As she set the child down, Caroline glanced at the sleeves of his cloak. The purple markings were unmistakable._

" _You're Plegian, aren't you?" She asked, the fevered child._

 _The child did not respond._

 _With a worried sigh, Caroline got back into her cart and resumed her journey with a haste that had been absent before."_

* * *

"So you brought a Grimleal into your village?!" Frederick demanded, folding his arms.

"No, I saved a child who had a deadly fever!" Caroline snapped, slapping her palms down on the table in front of her. "It's a rather handy thing called perspective. Maybe short sighted brutes like you could use some."

"Frederick, stop antagonizing her!" Chrom ordered sternly, glaring towards his bodyguard. "She made the right decision."

Caroline exhaled heavily. "You wanted the full story, so I'm going to get back to it, alright. Nothing of importance happened during the trip home, so I'll skip ahead a little bit, alright?"

* * *

 _Caroline shoved the door open with a bang._

" _Caroline?" The house's owner stammered, jumping to his feet. "What's happened?"_

" _I have a patient for you, Doctor Thorn." Caroline replied, bringing the child into view._

 _Doctor Thorn didn't waste any time, gesturing towards a bed in the corner of the room._

" _Put him there. I need to grab my bag."_

 _Caroline did as instructed, placing the child down on the freshly washed sheets and pulled up a stool, sitting at his side._

 _She watched as Thorn examined his patient. He slipped the oversized cloak from his shoulders and rolled him over before gasping in horror._

 _The back of the child torn tunic was completely covered in dried, cracking blood._

 _Seizing a pair of shears, Thorn cut the tunic down the back._

 _There were few words that could describe the damage that had been done to this child's back. Dozens of scars covered the entirety of it, many of them almost completely covered in a black crust. At it's deepest, something that looked suspiciously like a bone was visible._

" _Gods…" Thorn muttered, sorting through his bags._

" _What does this mean, Doctor?" Caroline was afraid to ask._

" _These cuts are incredibly infected." Thorn cursed under his breath, fishing a brown glass bottle from his supply. "It's no surprise he has a fever at this stage. I'm shocked he's still alive._

" _Can you help him?"_

" _I honestly don't know." Thorn sighed heavily, pouring a generous amount of the liquid into a small dish and dropping a few strips of cloth into it. "I'll try, but don't get your hopes up."_

 _For the next few weeks, Caroline never left the boy's side. Sometimes she told him stories, sometimes she read to him, sometimes she sang, but she was always there._

 _Doctor Thorn checked in every day, changing bandages or applying a dose of healing magic._

 _The infection began to clear under the doctor's never ending work. Flesh began to close across the terrible wounds. His skin began to cool._

 _It was during the third week that the patient began to stir._

 _Caroline had been carefully pouring a bowl of thin soup down his throat, only for a sputtered cough to catch her attention._

 _The child spat a mouthful of soup back out, before his eyes fluttered open._

" _Hey…" Caroline whispered gently, setting the bowl down. "Don't worry. You're safe."_

* * *

"How did he get so hurt?" Chrom asked.

"I don't know." Caroline shook her head. "He never told me and eventually I just stopped asking."

Frederick scoffed. "How opportune."

"Frederick…" Chrom warned.

"It just seems incredibly convenient." Frederick continued. "A young Grimleal found by the roadside, saved by a passing villager and brought into the Halidom. A perfect cover story."

"I saw those wounds, knight." Caroline hissed. "They weren't a façade."

"I was part of the Crusade." Frederick countered. "I saw the lengths the Grimleal are willing to go to harm Ylisse."

"Well, if you already know the whole story, why don't you get the hell out my house!" Caroline demanded, pointing towards the door.

"Frederick, wait on the porch and don't move until I get there." Chrom ordered sternly.

"But mil-"

"Go!"

With one last glare towards Caroline, the Great Knight stood and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Now", Chrom sighed, "will you please continue?"

Caroline nodded, breathing out her anger.

* * *

" _Well, here we are." Caroline led the child into her house. "It's not much, but its home."_

 _The child glanced around as Caroline led him to the dinner table and climbed into a seat._

" _So…" the woman began awkwardly. "I…don't really know where to go from here."_

 _The child didn't look at her, only continuing to glance around._

" _Do you…understand me?" She asked, unsure if this boy even spoke her language._

" _Yes." He replied, a very obvious Plegian accent slipping into his words._

" _Good…" Caroline wrung her hands, thinking. "Do you have a name?"_

 _For a moment, it looked like he wasn't going to answer. She was about to continue when he whispered._

" _Robin…"_

" _Well then, Robin, I found this in your cloak."_

 _Caroline produced a rather thick, leather bound book, the spine looking heavily weathered._

 _Robin's eyes widened for a moment before he snatched the book from her grasp, clutching it to his chest._

"… _thank you…" He whispered a moment later, rubbing to book as one would a beloved pet._

" _Your welcome." Caroline smiled. "That's a rather serious book, don't you think?"_

" _It's a book of military tactics..." Came the reply, the boy's young mouth struggling to form the words._

" _A boy your age, studying tactics?" She asked incredulously._

" _This was my mother's book."_

 _Now she was making progress._

" _Where is your mother?" Caroline asked gently. "She must be worried sick about you."_

" _My mother's dead." Robin replied bluntly and without emotion._

" _Oh….I'm so sorry." Caroline awkwardly. "What about your father?"_

" _Don't have one."_

 _Caroline flinched. So Robin was an orphan._

" _Do you know where you're from?"_

" _Plegia." Robin replied._

" _Then how did you end up by that road. You were quite a ways into Ylisse."_

" _Walked."_

" _You walked from Plegia to Ylisse?"_

 _A nod._

 _Okay, this was just getting strange._

" _What happened to your back?" She asked tentatively._

 _Robin didn't respond, but the dead look in his eyes faded for just a moment, replaced with a cold fury that Caroline didn't believe a child could possibly possess._

" _All right." She sighed. "Do you have anywhere to go?"_

" _No."_

" _Why didn't you try to find a town? You must have passed them." Caroline was getting desperate for answers. None of this made sense to her."_

" _I didn't want help."_

" _Then what do you want?"_

" _I want to die."_

* * *

Chrom's eyes widened in shock. "He what?"

"I was surprised too." Caroline murmured, shaking her head. "A child that young, truly wanting to die? I couldn't understand it."

"What happened?" Chrom asked, his mental image of the stoic Plegian shattered.

Caroline smiled gently. "I didn't let him do it."

* * *

" _Robin! Come look at this." Caroline called across the market square._

" _Coming!" Came the response as the nine-year old came rushing to his aunt's side._

" _The harvest is so bountiful this year." The woman laughed, grabbing an apple for examination._

" _It is." Robin confirmed, a rare smile gracing his features._

 _He had been living with Caroline for almost two years now. For the first three months, Caroline refused to leave him alone, fearing what he might do to himself. After a late night finding him holding a kitchen knife to his throat, she had taken to keeping him with her whenever possible, often staying by his bedside long after he had fallen asleep._

 _But Caroline began to see the change in her boy. The smiles were becoming more common, and she no longer had to listen to him crying in his sleep, her heart breaking with every whimper._

 _"Do you need a new tome, Robin?" Caroline asked, gesturing towards one of the venders._

 _"No thank you, aunty." He replied. "I'm not done with my old one."_

 _Her boy had natural talent for magic, she had discovered one evening when he lit the candles on the kitchen table with only a few words and a flick of his wrists._

 _"There's the freak!"_

 _But not everyone was so welcoming of her nephew._

 _Coming towards the small family, was a very familiar boy._

 _Cody had always been a troubled boy, getting into whatever trouble was possible and dragging the other children along._

 _But he had taken a particular loathing to Robin. Cody's father had been one of the countless knights killed during the war and the boy took out his anger on the only Plegian within his reach._

 _"Just ignore him, Robin." Caroline whispered to him, taking his hand and leading him towards their house._

 _"You damned Grimleal!" Cody screamed, snatching up a pebble from the street and, with all the strength in his body, hurled it towards the retreating duo._

 _Acting on an instinct too strong to be denied, Caroline pushed Robin aside, only to place her head in the path of the projectile._

 _The older woman stumbled from the impact and fell to her knees, bringing her hand to the side of her head._

 _When she removed her hand, her fingers were crimson._

 _"Aunty!" Robin cried, rushing over to her._

 _"I'm alright, Robin." She assured him gently. "I'm alright."_

 _Cody burst out laughing, throwing his head back._

 _This proved to be mistake, as the same stone he had thrown smacked into the center of his forehead, knocking him flat onto his back. He slammed his hands over where the stone had impacted, his eyes shooting towards the source, tears forming at their edges._

 _To the nine year old, Robin's face was comparable to a demon's, the fury surging though them was so great._

 _Panic overcoming his senses, Cody scrambled to his feet and ran away, crying._

 _Noticing the countless pairs of eyes on her nephew, Caroline grabbed Robin's wrist, tugging him towards home._

* * *

"Naga…" Chrom cursed. "How could a child be so cruel?"

"It's not so hard to undersand." Caroline replied, gingerly touching the scar on the side of her head. "His father had been killed by Plegians, so he hated Plegians."

"Still…" Chrom grasped at words, trying to give this thoughts voice.

"Let me continue." Caroline dismissed the conversation with a wave of her hand. "There were few other events of note during that time. The next was about a year later."

* * *

" _Doctor Thorn."_

 _The village doctor looked up from his book._

" _Robin. What can I do for you, my boy?" He asked cheerfully, setting the leather bound tome aside._

 _Robin didn't respond immediately, letting the Doctor take a good look at him._

 _At ten, almost eleven years old, Robin was already tall for his age and was likely to grow taller. Caroline had taken to cutting his unruly white hair short, but it was beginning to grow out again. He still wore the same, oversized cloak he'd been found in. Apparently, according to Robin, it had been a final gift from his mother, a present he could grow into._

 _But from the look on his face, Thorn knew this was not a social visit._

 _Robin glanced around the room, considering his words._

" _You used to be a guard, right?"_

" _Yes, I was." Thorn confirmed, uncertainty slipping into his face._

 _The young Plegian looked the older man in the eye._

" _Can you teach me to use a sword?"_

" _What?" Thorn was taken aback, certain he had misheard the Plegian's request._

" _Can you teach me to use a sword?" Robin asked again. "I want to learn."_

" _Why?" Thorn asked. "Why do you want to learn to fight?"_

" _Because someday, I might not have a choice." Robin replied, glancing away. "I want to be able to protect myself."_

 _Thorn wasn't convinced. Robin's reply had seemed rehearsed, but the doctor couldn't deny the logic._

 _The Exalt's Crusade had ended almost a year and half ago with the fanatical Exalt's death, leaving his oldest daughter to take the throne at the age of nine. Since that time, the farmers had been returned to their homes and food had been grown again._

 _But Emmeryn had also disbanded the Ylissian army, leaving only the guardsmen to maintain order. Dozens of Brigand groups and surfaced since then, always seemingly too quick for the guards to catch._

 _With Ylisse as it was, Thorn couldn't deny, Robin would benefit from a few lessons in swordplay._

" _Very well." The Doctor sighed. "We will begin tomorrow morning. Meet me here."_

 _Robin nodded and left the doctor's home._

* * *

"So Robin started training at ten?" Chrom asked. "That's a little young, don't you think?"

"I did think so at the time." Caroline agreed. "But it there's one thing I've learned about my boy, it's that once he sets his mind to something, nothing can stop him." Her head dropped as she continued. "Unfortunately, that brings me to the last part of this story."

She brought her gaze up to the prince's.

"The day Robin left home."

* * *

 _Caroline hummed softly to herself as she scrubbed at a particularly stubborn plate, the soapy water doing little to ease the task._

 _Her nephew had gone off to work the fields with Donnel. The younger boy had asked Robin to teach him to read._

 _At thirteen, Robin had become very adept at village life. He could yolk an oxen, steer a cart, plow the fields._

 _He had even set up a series of traps in the nearby woods to catch game the day before._

 _Little did she know the events that would soon follow._

 _The first warning Caroline got the sound of running feet, followed by a frantic pounding at her door._

 _Startled, Caroline rushed to answer._

" _Doctor Thorn?" She asked in surprise and the older man gasped for breath._

" _Where is Robin?!" He asked, his eyes wide with panic as he glanced around the room._

 _Robin?" Caroline stuttered. "I don't know. He left his morning."_

" _We have to find him!" He cried. "We have to find him before they do!"_

" _Whose, 'they'?!" Caroline demanded, grabbing Thorn's shoulders._

" _You there! Peasant!"_

 _Caroline's attention was snatched away by the street in front of her._

 _Marching towards her, armour gleaming the in noontime sun, was a Ylissian Knight, flanked on either side by guardsman._

 _With the self-righteous attitude common in the knighthood, he shoved Thorn aside, towering over Caroline._

 _She didn't allow herself to be intimidated. Caroline drew herself up to her full knight, barely reaching the knight's chest._

" _Can I help you, sir?" She asked, feigning ignorance._

" _A member of your…quaint town has informed me of a rather disturbing rumor." The Knight began._

 _Caroline's temper bristled at the way the man had said 'Quaint'. "And what rumor would that be?"_

" _That you are harboring an enemy of Ylisse." The Knight spat. "Nay, of Naga herself."_

 _The village woman folded her arms in defiance. "I can't say I have been, sir."_

" _Don't listen to her!"_

 _Cody rushed towards the scene, stopping only when guardsmen seized his arms._

" _Speak, boy." The Knight ordered._

" _She's taken him in, sir!" Cody cried. "He's raised one of them Grimleal right under her own roof!"_

" _Is this true?!" The Knight demanded, spinning back to Caroline._

" _Robin is not a Grimleal!" Caroline stated firmly. "He doesn't even believe in gods at all."_

" _So you admit it!" The Knight hissed. "You admit to bringing a Plegian into your home!"_

" _Yes, I do!" Caroline's frustration grew. "Robin has been here for almost seven years now."_

" _Seven years!" The Knight roared. "Naga only knows the vile magic's that Grimleal bastard has worked in that time!"_

 _Caroline's temper broke free. She swung her hand, attempting to slap the knight, only to have her hand caught in his vicelike grip._

" _Caroline!" Thorn cried, throwing himself towards the Knight, only to be knocked down the porch stairs by a single backhand._

" _Attacking a Knight is a capital offence, Peasants." The Knight snarled, yanking Caroline from the doorway. "You are both under arrest. Now tell me where the Plegian is!"_

" _Never." Caroline spat, a wad of saliva smacking into the Knight's face._

 _Hissing in fury, the Knight drew his hand back, ready to smack some sense into these low-born-_

 _Something very small and very hard crashed into the Knight's temple._

 _With a pained cry, he stumbled to the side, releasing his grip on Caroline._

 _His vision swam before bringing his attacker in focus._

" _I think you're looking for me?" Robin called from the edge of the forest, tossing a pebble in his palm for a moment before hurling it directing into one of the guard's forehead._

 _His ammunition depleted, Robin turned on his heel and sprinted into the forest._

 _"After him!" The Knight roared his order as he charged into the trees, followed closely by his guardsmen._

 _"Robin!" Caroline cried, almost flying down the steps and into the trees, followed closely by Thorn._

 _Moments later, cries of pain reached their ears._

 _"Robin, come back!" Caroline cried in desperation as she reached the source of the noise, only stop in her tracks in confusion._

 _It hadn't been Robin who had cried out in pain._

 _One of the guardsmen was hanging upside down by his ankle, the rough twine digging painfully into his flesh._

 _The other was found at the bottom of a nearby pitfall, clutching his knee in agony. Apparently he had landed on it._

 _It was only after continuing forward that they found who they had been looking for._

 _Robin stood looking down into another pit, his face emotionless._

 _"Robin!" Caroline cried in relief a she threw her arms around her nephew. "Are you alright?"_

 _"I'm fine." Robin replied emotionlessly, glancing down into the he pit. "He isn't._

 _Caroline glanced down and immediately wished she hadn't._

 _The knight lay at the bottom, unmoving among the numerous wooden spikes scattered around the bottom, specifically the one imbedded in his neck from where he had landed._

 _"I killed him." Robin said simply as Caroline tore he eyes away._

 _"You defended yourself, Robin." His aunt insisted. "There's nothing wrong with that."_

 _"I know." He replied, his voice growing think. "Aunty, I can't stay here."_

" _What?"_

" _I can't stay here." Robin repeated shaking his head as tears began to travel down his face. "Not after this."_

" _Robin…" Caroline whimpered, hugging him tighter. She wanted to find an argument against him, to make him stay, but there was none that could change his mind._

 _Instead, she could only say what she knew._

" _I love you, sweet boy."_

" _I love you too, Aunt Caroline."_

 _Robin detached himself from his aunt, turning towards Thorn._

 _The doctor couldn't find a single word, so when Robin pulled him into an embrace, he returned it with no reluctance._

" _Goodbye, my boy." He whispered._

" _Goodbye….Uncle."_


	7. Chapter 7: Nobility

Robin tossed and turned, trying in vain to get comfortable.

The Shepherds were spending the night in the village before returning to Ylisstol. Caroline had offered Robin the use of his old room and, eager any reprieve from the Ylissians, he had accepted.

Now, however, he seemed unable to truly commit to sleep.

After an hour of futile attempts, Robin sighed and climbed out of his bed, slipping on his cloak and heading for the door.

Perhaps a short walk would clear his head.

The night air was crisp and clean, a slight dampness sinking into the tired man's skin. A bright sliver of moon shone brightly high above him from a cloudless sky.

It did nothing to bring Robin peace. His unease only grew even more as he realized something he had missed.

The night was completely silent. Not a cricket daring to chirp or a bird dare call.

"Robin?"

The Plegian glanced over his shoulder to be greeted the worried face of his aunt.

"Is something wrong?" She asked, glancing around.

"I…don't know." He replied, his gaze turning towards the silent forest. "I just feel…off."

"What do you mean?" Caroline asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Something's wrong." He stated, his fingers involuntarily clenching, his instincts screaming to find his enemy and destroy them. "I don't know-"

The Plegian's words were cut by an earth-shattering roar. Apparently, the ground in the far off forest had decided it had a better idea of where it should be. What looked like a mountain's worth of earth cracked free, rising up while the rest sank down. From deep within the seemingly bottomless ravine, a giant wall of flame burst free, throwing chunks of super-heated earth in every direction.

"Aunty, get back to the village." Robin cried over the cacophony of noise that tore through previously silent forest.

Caroline hesitated, glancing back to her nephew.

"Go! I'll be right behind you!"

Finally, Caroline turning on her heel and sprinted towards the village.

Seeing his aunt's retreating form, Robin turned back to the event unfolding in front of him.

More super-heated missiles were shooting from the crevice, raining down in random directions.

One of them fired up in a deadly arc before beginning it's decent back to earth, directly towards the village.

Robin's hand shot forward, sparks jumping between his fingers before a bolt of Elthunder erupted forth.

With an ear-splitting crack, the molten rock burst, throwing sparks and smaller rocks in every direction.

Robin immediately began summoning another spell, careful not use too much of his magic. Without his tome, he couldn't waste any.

Luckily, there didn't seem to be anymore projectiles heading towards the village and the flames seemed to be receding into the crevice.

But something else caught Robin's attention. A massive amount of magical energy seemed to be gathering in the sky.

From his position, Robin watched as the energy surged to a single dot in the sky before expanding outwards into a semi-circle. It didn't stay like that for long, opening upwards like an eye, leaving a giant, glowing circle with what looked like crystals growing from it's edge.

"What is that?" Robin muttered, walking a little closer to the magical anomaly.

Something seemed to ooze from the magic high above, crashing to the ground in a heap.

What he saw made Robin's stomach lurch.

It was humanoid, deathly grey skin and wearing what looked like a Fighter's armour and clutched a steel axe in its right hand.

Whatever this thing was, it definitely wasn't human. It lurched to it's feet, giving Robin a clear view of it's face. It's eyes glowed red and it's nearly toothless mouth exhaled a thin, black smoke.

Robin didn't waste a moment, firing off a Thunder spell the moment he had it charged.

The monstrosity caught the blast in the torso, throwing it backwards against a tree hard enough to crack the trunk in two.

The creature didn't seem to be injured. It jumped back to it's feet, still clutching it's axe. It surged towards the Plegian before leaping into the air, bringing it's axe down in an overhead chop that could split stone.

Robin sidestepped the strike, summoning more Magic. Flames gathered in his palm and surrounded his fist. With all the strength he had, Robing punched the creature in the chest. His fist tore through the rusted armour with an audible crash, clean through until it was visible from the back.

All strength seemed to leave the creature, the edges of it's body beginning to dissolve into purple mist.

"Grima….." It rasped as it's entire body dissolved.

Robin froze, his mind racing.

Now he knew what the creature had been. He hadn't wanted to consider that option, but now, the evidence had just rasped in his face.

"Risen…" Robin hissed, frustration growing. With a roar that sounded more like pure anger then words, the Plegian punched the tree again.

"Everything I've done….was for nothing." He cursed himself.

"Robin….."

The Plegian whirled around, searching for the source of the voice.

"Robin…." It hissed again. Something about that voice didn't seem right, despite it's familiarity. It sounded like it's owner could be doing anything from murdering a man to doing some gardening and it would use the same tone for both.

"Where are you?!" Robin roared, his head spinning in search.

"Right here." Someone whispered right behind him.

Someone seized Robin's shoulder and flung him back.

The Plegian crashed against a tree, the wind knocked out of him. Glancing up, Robin almost couldn't believe what was standing in front of him.

It was him. Maybe a little older, but it was him. The face, hair, cloak, everything.

The Other Robin didn't say another word, glaring down at his fallen counterpart.

Now Robin could see something different between them. This person's eyes had a dark glow in them, similar to the creature from before.

The Other Robin didn't say a word, instead he just stood there, glaring down at his counterpart.

A strange sensation began to enter Robin's right hand. Glancing down, Robin's eyes widened with horror as he what was happening.

Underneath his glove, a bright, purple light was shining so bright it's shape was easily seen thought the fabric.

The Mark of Grima.

Robin tried to move, get away from this situation, but he couldn't. His body didn't respond to his orders as he involuntarily raised his hand towards his opposite. Streaks of red lightning seemed to jump across his vision.

Moments later, everything stopped.

The Mark stopped glowing, his vision cleared, and feeling began to return to his body.

The Other Robin growled.

"Damn it!" He cursed, drawing his arm back.

Robin felt the fist collide with his jaw before he blacked out.

* * *

Robin's vision slowly came back into focus.

He was in a cart again, the floor creaking and wobbling as it moved across uneven terrain.

Robin tried to stand, only to find himself unable to separate his wrists, feeling coarse twine biting into his wrists.

"The hell?" He muttered.

"So you're awake."

Robin's eyes snapped up.

Seated on a crate and glaring at him, was Sir Fredrick. His arms were folded as he scrutinized Robin's every move.

"What do you want?" Robin hissed, his binds biting into his wrists again and his hands involuntarily clenched.

"I want answers." Frederick stated simply. "We found you slumped against a tree near the Outrealm Gate.

Outrealm Gate? Robin had read about the legendary gate before, of course. Apparently it had been sealed long ago, during the First Exalt's reign.

"How did you reopen the gate?" Frederick demanded. "Countless Ylissian scholars have attempted to do so, but never succeeded."

"I didn't. I was has surprised as you are." Robin replied. "I went for a walk last night, suddenly the Gate opened and Risen were falling out of it."

"You mean the creatures you summoned?" Frederick continued. "The beings that almost took Lady Lissa's life?"

"Okay, I know you knights have difficulty understanding anything more complicated then stabbing people, so let me be as clear as possible." Robin paused, before speaking as slowly as possible. "I. Didn't. Open. The. Damn. Gate."

"Then how do know what these 'Risen' are?" Frederick snapped.

"What do you think I do when I open a book?" Robin asked sarcastically. "Look at the pretty pictures? Pretend I'm some fantasy hero? No. I am researching. That is how I know what Risen are."

Frederick's eyes narrowed, the chocolate brown within them seeming to burn. "Your sarcasm does you no favors, Grimleal."

"And your paranoia doesn't do you much better." Robin shot back, his temper flaring at the cult's name. "Now, do you have more questions? I'm really enjoying this talk."

"Who is Marth?" Frederick questioned, trying to bring his temper under control.

Robin paused.

"Really? I thought all Ylissians knew who he was, seeing as you live to kiss his descendant's asses."

"Not the Hero-King, Plegian!" Frederick slammed his palms down on the crate he was sitting on. "The man you brought through the Outrealm Gate."

"For the last time, I didn't open the Outrealm Gate." Robin sighed, exasperated. "I don't know who, or what, you are talking about."

"Liar!" Frederick roared, lurching to his feet and storming towards the bound Plegian. He grabbed a handful of Robin's robes and pulled him so close their faces were barely inches apart. "I will find out what you did, Grimleal. I will not allow you to harm Ylisse!"

"What's going on here?!"

Frederick released the Plegian's robes as Chrom pulled the cart's tarp open.

"I was interrogating the prisoner, milord." Frederick informed him, bowing respectfully. "He denies opening the gate, but does indeed have knowledge of the creatures."

"Thank Naga." Chrom breathed a sigh of relief before turning to Robin. "So you know what those creatures are?"

Robin nodded. "They are Risen."

"Risen?" Chrom paused. "As in, the servants of Grima, Risen?"

"Yes." Robin confirmed.

"How is that possible?" Chrom asked, folding his arms. "The Risen were wiped out during the Schism."

"I have no idea." Robin muttered, looking away. "It should be impossible for the Risen to still exist with Grima sealed away, but I have no doubts in my mind that these creatures are indeed the servants of the Fell Dragon."

"Naga…." Chrom breathed. "We have to report this to my sister. She'll know what to do."

"Where are we anyway?" Robin asked, glancing around the prince and out the cart. "It seems we've left the village."

"We have." Chrom nodded. "We're returning to the capital. Emm needs to know about the Outrealm Gate."

"Great." Robin sighed. "So am I going to be spending the rest of this trip bound?"

"Oh, right!" Chrom realized with a start. "Frederick, untie him."

"Mi-"

"That was an order, Frederick." Chrom was in no mood for his bodyguard's paranoia.

With naked disgust, Frederick pulled a knife from his belt and sliced the bonds of Robin's wrists, almost taking the conscript's fingers with them.

"Robin, I will call on you when we get to the capital." Chrom said apologetically. "We need to know everything you do about these…Risen."

"Of course you do." Robin confirmed. "I'll be ready."

* * *

Chrom despised attending the Ylissian council sessions. Despite his duty has prince, he would much rather be out in the field, leading his Shepherds and protecting his homeland. Instead, he was seated beside his sister in the council chamber and trying not to fidget.

"Thank you all for gathering on such short notice." Emmeryn began from her seat at the head of the table. "I have called you here in response to the…incident that took place in the south."

"Lady Exalt, if I may?" Maribelle asked from her seat, representing her family's name. "What incident are you referring too?"

"Chrom, if you would?" Emmeryn turned to her brother expectantly.

Steeling himself, Chrom told them what he had seen and what Robin had told him.

"The Outrealm Gate has reopened?" One of the older council members gasped. "How is such a thing possible?"

"We don't know." Chrom replied, shaking his head in frustration. "We have no idea what triggered it, but facts are facts. The Outrealm Gate has returned."

"Milord, putting aside the matter of how it happened for now, what of these creatures that the gate spawned? 'Risen', I believe you named them." Maribelle inquired, determined to know more about the beings that had almost taken the life of her treasure.

"I have someone who might know more waiting outside." Chrom turned to the door. "Come in, Robin."

The moment the Plegian stepped through the doors, silence overwhelmed the council. Only for a moment however, before an outraged voice tore through the chamber.

"You let one of the Grimleal into this chamber?! Are you mad, my prince?!" A councilman with a very impressive white beard roared, smashing his palms onto the table.

"Peace, please." Emmeryn raised a hand towards the enraged noble. "Lord Garret, please calm yourself. Robin has information that might be of use to us."

"And you would trust the word of a Plegian?! After everything they did to us during your Father's Reign?!" Lord Garret demanded.

For the first time, Chrom saw something in Robin's eye. A spark of rage, edged with genuine anger.

The Plegian stomped forward, smashing his palms down on an empty section of table, silencing the room once more.

"Do you ever consider why we did what we did to your army?" Robin hissed, eyes locked on the old noble.

Lord Garret hesitated just long enough for Robin to continue.

"Something you noble brats forget very quickly is that YOU attacked US! WE defended ourselves from YOUR genocide campaign." Robin's voice was growing hoarser as he spat every word. "Now, sit down and shut up, please."

Anyone who dared speak up was quickly silenced by the deathly glare Chrom gave them.

Emmeryn, eager to move on, gestured toward Robin. "What can you tell us about these 'Risen?"

Robin breathed deep, trying to control his rage. "Only what I've read. Risen are corpses given life again through the use of a specific branch of magic. These reanimated bodies feel no pain, exhaustion or hunger. If left on their own, they will wander aimlessly, searching for something to kill."

"Naga preserve us." Emmeryn breathed. How could such monsters exist?

"A moment." Maribelle interrupted. "You said Risen were created from a specific type of magic. Which type could create these abominations?"

Robin closed his eyes and sighed. He knew what was coming. "Fell Magic."

Emmeryn gasped. "Robin, you mean to tell us…"

"Yes, Lady Exalt." Robin confirmed. "Risen are the servants of Grima. The Fell Dragon itself sustains them."

"Impossible." Lord Garrett immediately denied. "The Fell Dragon cannot threaten us. Exalt Cameron saw to that, Naga bless him. It will be centuries before the Grimleal attempt to resurrect that monster again."

"I agree." Robin surprised everyone. "It shouldn't be possible, but the evidence is there. The Risen have returned."

"We have to protect our people." Chrom stressed, looking at his sister. "If these Risen are a Plegian weapon, we have to be ready."

"Don't be so quick to blame the Plegians, brother." Emmeryn scolded gently, but seemed to consider her brother's words. "But, with this situation, I agree. We must take action."

"How?" Lord Garret questioned. "We have no army and not enough guardsmen to protect every settlement in Ylisse."

"Then I believe it is time we look to our old ally once again." Emmeryn replied.

"Sister, do you mean…" Chrom asked, uncertainly.

"Yes, Chrom. It is time we asked the Feroxi for their assistance once again."

* * *

His business complete, Robin was dismissed from the council chambers, though he felt every noble in the room glaring into his back on the way out.

He leaned against the wall, just to breath.

Useless, hypocritical-

"Excuse me, Plegian?"

Robin was brought out of his thoughts by a haughty voice.

Glancing over, he saw that he had been joined by the blond Noble from the council meeting. For some reason, she had a pink fabric parasol leaning against her shoulder.

"Do I know you?" Robin asked.

"You may address me as Maribelle, sir." The noble woman responded, clearly taking issue with his blunt tone. "I have an issue with you, sir."

"Great." Robin replied sarcastically.

"Indeed." She continued, narrowing her gaze. "A commoner like yourself has no business addressing the nobility as 'brats'.

"I do when that's what they are." Robin countered. "Egotistical, self-serving, brats."

"How dare you, sir?!" Maribelle snapped, his hands tightening around her parasol. "The common folk are to treat the nobility with respect. What gives a commoner the right to judge the nobility?!"

"And what gives you the right to demand my respect?" Robin spat. "Actually, I have a method of telling if you do. Show me your hand."

"What?" Maribelle paused, confused.

"If you think you have the right to demand my respect, show me your hand." Robin repeated.

"Fine. I'll play your little game." Maribelle extended her hand, palm up.

Robin glanced it over once before clicking his tongue. "Smooth skin, scented soap and spotless nails, just like I though."

"And just what do you mean, sir?!"

Robin folded his arms in defiance. "These are the hands of a noble. Someone whose been waited on, hand and foot, for their entire lives."

Maribelle's eyes narrowed. "Now see here-"

"Tell, what do you do for the common people you supposedly look after?" Robin asked, not giving the noble time to speak. "Have you ever spent a day in the fields, trying to bring in a harvest?"

"No, but I-"

"Have you ever spent a day draped in anything but fine silks and perfume?"

"…no."

"Have you ever woken up, wondering if this is going to be the day you starve to death, or have some noble prick cut you down?"

Maribelle remained silent, she simply had nothing to say.

"You don't deserve my respect." Robin hissed, turning away. "You might has well have never left your estate."

His speech finished, the Plegian turned on his heel and walked away, leaving behind a very angry noble.

* * *

"Damn it…."

Stahl was in a panic.

He had been ordered, ORDERED, by both his captain and his deputy to keep watch on the Plegian while they stayed in Ylisstol, but, somehow, the cloaked man had evaded him. He had returned to the barracks, closed the door to his temporary quarters, and according to Muriel, at least, had never come out. But somehow, when the Cavalier knocked on the door, the room was empty.

The normally mellow man had practically searched the entire barracks at this this point. At first he thought Robin might have gone to visit Donnel. After the Shepherds had saved his village, the young man had begged Chrom to let him join the Shepherds. After confirming that the conscript hadn't been to see him, Stahl had checked the training yard, the mess hall, even the dungeons.

It was like the Plegian had simply vanished.

"Okay," Stahl began, putting a fist to his chin, "The mark would prevent him from leaving the capital, but that's still a lot of ground….I could-"

 _Clunk_

A clattering of metal caught his attention.

He had been passing by one of the storerooms and within, he saw the robe he had been looking for.

Robin was taking flasks of Vulunary Paste from a shelf and slipping it into a small sack.

"What are you doing?" Stahl asked, stepping into the room.

Robin paused, looking up from his work. "I'm packing up some medical supplies."

"I can see that." Stahl replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "Why?"

"Because I know someone who needs it."

Having filled the sack as much as he possibly could, Robin slung it over his shoulder and marched out the door, not looking back as Stahl scrambled after him.

"Wait!" The cavalier cried. "Where are you going?"

"Out." Robin stated, not slowing his stride.

Robin led the bewildered knight straight out of the barracks, ignoring the confused stares that were sent his way. They exited the upper district of Ylisstol, passed the front gate and into the common sector.

'Here', Stahl thought, 'must be where Robin's friend is.'

But the Plegain walked straight though the district and down a darkened alleyway.

When he emerged from the far side, however, he stepped out of the alley and stopped, looking back the way they'd come.

"What's the matter?" Stahl asked.

"We're being followed." Robin replied.

Sure enough, moments later, someone emerged from the alley, a hooded cloak over their heads.

Robin didn't waste a moment. He stepped behind them, blocking their entrance to the alley.

"Who are you?" He hissed. "Why are you following us?"

Their pursuer seemed surprised to have been found out, but with a resigned sigh, they lowered their hood, revealing their curly blonde hair.

"Maribelle?" Stahl's confusion was evident.

"Why are you following us?" Robin repeated.

"After our…..discussion." The Noble began. "I engaged in some serious thinking and, much to my displeasure, I must agree with you. I know very little about the lives of the unwashed masses. Therefore, I have decided to see them firsthand."

"First, calling them 'Unwashed Masses' down here will get your head bashed in." Robin replied. "Second. Why made you think I would just take you along?"

"And why ever wouldn't you?" Maribelle demanded.

Robin paused, considering his options. The noble had followed them this far and if he refused, she would likely continue regardless.

"Fine." He sighed. "If I can take this chance to educate you, maybe some good will come of this."

Turning on his heel, Robin walked down a nearby road.

Leaving the commoner's quarters, the trio descended into the slums.

"Why are we down here?" Stahl asked, glancing around, worried.

After the Crusade, many Ylissians had found themselves lacking a means of survival. Too many farmers had been killed to man every farm, and many of those that did return had suffered a life-crippling wound. Even now Stahl could see a few men trying to hobble about on one leg or eating hard bread with their sole arm. Lacking the means to earn a wage, these people had ended up in the slums, trying to find the means to rebuild their lives.

It was a place absent of hope.

Robin didn't respond. He ignored the glares he received as he passed, the deadly glare in his eyes enough to keep many of the more fool-hardy slum-dwellers at bay, instead only hearing a few quiet slurs behind his back.

The Plegian led his companions further, down a steep, stone staircase into Ylisstol's underbelly.

The area they were in now was to the slums what the slums were to the rest of the ancient city.

None of the devastated buildings still possessed all of their walls, one or two having long since been worn away by rain or the action of men.

"Where are we?" Maribelle asked, grimacing as she spied a small colony of rats dash through the shadows of one of the more decrepit buildings.

"Most people call this place the Grim Quarter." Robin replied, glancing around cautiously. "Be on your guard. This isn't the safest place."

"How much further?" Stahl asked.

"Just around this corner."

Sure enough, the moment they rounded the corner, Stahl could see their destination.

It was a building, but compared to it's surroundings, there was something almost welcoming about it.

The door was heavy wood and recently repaired and a flickering candle rested in the window.

Robin marched up the door, giving it a solid pound.

There was the sound of shoes on stone before someone pulled the door open a crack.

"Robin?"

"It's me, Jodi."

Jodi pulled the door open all the way. "Come in. All of you."

The inside of the building was not what Stahl had been expecting.

Beds lined the far wall, some of them occupied by sleeping people, all of whom had white bandages wrapped tightly around their bodies somewhere, some of which were stained red with blood.

"Here, Jodi." Robin handed her the sack. "I brought you some stuff."

"Thanks, Robin." Jodi bowed in gratitude, accepting the bag. "My patients could really use these."

"I'm sorry, but what is this place?" Stahl interrupted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

Jodi glanced at him and immediately all warmth left her face.

"You're a knight." She hissed.

"I am." Stahl confirmed, his confusion growing.

"Why are you here?" Jodi demanded. "Want to see what happens to the 'Plegian Scum' after your done with them?"

"W-What are you talking about?" Stahl stammered.

"Jodi, he isn't one of them." Robin cut in before Jodi could start ranting. "He doesn't know what you're talking about."

Jodi glanced at her friend. "How could he not know?"

"The bastards are good at keeping things hidden."

"Who are you referring to, sir?" Maribelle demanded.

"Why did you bring them down here, Robin?" Jodi asked, glancing towards one of her patients.

"To see you." Robin replied. "You can explain what happens here better then I can."

Jodi glanced towards the two Ylissian's, looking them up and down before sighing heavily.

"What do you want to know?"

"Well…."Stahl considered his words. "What is this place?"

"It's my clinic." Jodi answered. "People down here get hurt pretty often."

"How so?"

"Your kind. Knights and guards." Jodi replied, giving Stahl a weary glance.

"That cant be right…." Stahl breathed.

Jodi pointed towards one of her patients, the bandages wrapped thick around the man's torso.

"That man was stabbed through his stomach by one of you." Jodi spat. "He was trying to get to the church of Naga to find a healer for his daughter. Instead of listening to him, one of the guards dragged him into an alley and ran him though."

"Ylissian Guardsmen would do no such thing!" Maribelle decried, denial clear on her face.

"Believe whatever you want, Noble." Jodi spat. "I'm the one they come to see when your kind hurt them."

"How could anyone do this?" Stahl groaned, his stomach turning in protest when he glanced towards the dozen or so patients.

"Easy to explain." Jodi gestured to the wall of beds. "What do all these men have in common?"

Stahl gave them all a once-over.

Some were tall, some were short. Some had beards, others were clean shaven. Some were old, some were young but the one thing they all had was-

"They're all Plegian!" Stahl realized.

Jodi nodded. "That is all the justification they need to kill us."

Stahl's words failed him, a great shame surging though his heart.

"That's impossible….Someone would know…"

"Your right. Someone would have to know." Robin spat, folding his arms. "The problem is that all the people who know are just as corrupt."

Before Stahl could say more, there was the loud shattering of glass.

A brick came to a rest at Maribelle's feet.

"Grima damn it." Robin cursed. "They're back."

"Whose back?" Stahl stammered.

Robin didn't answer. He spun on his heel and stormed out the door. A moment later, his companions followed.

Standing outside, torches held overhead and ready to throw, was a small group of Ylissians. They weren't even trying to hide their identities, their faces easily visible.

Robin narrowed his eyes on the man in the center of the mass. He was apparently the leader of this group. But what caught his attention was that he seemed somewhat familiar.

Apparently the feeling was mutual.

"You!" The gang leader shouted, fury surging within him.

"Do I know you?" Robin called back.

A furious sneer spread across the young man's face.

"Not so tough without your friend, are you?!" He screamed in fury. "You will pay for stealing my sword, Plegian!"

"I what?" Robin asked, a confused grimace on his face before realization dawned on him. "Oh. You're the brat that tried to rape Jodi."

"How dare you?!" The noble screamed, brandishing a new sword, just as ornate as the one Robin had taken from him. He looked like he was on the verge of charging, until he caught sight of the Plegian's companions.

"You! Knight!" He cried, pointing at Stahl. "I order you to kill this Plegian Scum!"

Stahl stumbled back, eyes wide. "W-What?!"

"Are you deaf, Sir?" The noble hissed. "A member of the Nobility has given you an order, and I demand it be carried out!"

"A monster like you has no right to be called Noble!" Marribelle cried, an angry, betrayed fury surging through her.

The noble paused, seeing Maribelle for the first time.

A bloodthirsty grin spread across his face. "Lady Maribelle. How fortunate."

He turned back to his followers. "This is what happened here tonight. Lady Maribelle, a well-known noble was abducted by Plegians, probably as a sacrifice for their Devil God. A Ylissian knight attempted to rescue her, only to be killed by the damned Grimleal. Fortunately, myself and my comrades heard of this tragic event and rushed to her aid, ridding Ylisse of this grave threat."

A series of cheers rang though the gathered Ylissians.

Maribelle's eyes widened. "You can't possibly believe anyone would believe that lie!"

"Oh, but the court will." The noble laughed. "The Plegian's have been raiding our land for years now. It wouldn't be too hard to sell this to them."

"I-I won't allow it!" Marribelle snapped. "I'll tell the truth!"

"You were a prisoner of the Grimleal Cult! Who knows what magics they could have filled your head with?" The Noble spat dismissively.

"Stahl." Robin muttered. "Give me my tome."

Stahl glanced towards Robin, eyes wide. "You can't plan to attack them!"

"We can't reason with them. They're going to attack no matter what. If you want to live, give me my tome!" Robin snapped. "Unless you die with the rest of us."

Cursing internally, the cavalier grabbed the tome and handed it to Robin.

* * *

 **A/N: EXPOSITION! Just need to get this out of the way before me move forward.**


	8. Chapter 8: Tactician

"What do you mean, you can't find them?" Chrom demanded, his frustration mounting.

"Exactly what I said, milord." Frederick replied regretfully. "No one knows what happened to Lady Maribelle, Stahl or the prisoner."

The Prince pinched his eyes and dragged his hand down his face.

"Okay." He began, reigning in his temper. "Yesterday, Vaike saw Stahl and Robin leaving the Barracks. That was the last time anyone has seen them, correct?"

"Yes, milord." Fredrick confirmed. "Maribelle disappeared around the same time." The knight paused as he considered his own words. "Mi-"

"No, I do not believe that Robin has kidnapped Maribelle, Frederick." Chrom cut him off.

"Your lordyship!"

Donnel slid to a halt, bowing clumsily to his prince. "I found them, your Graceship."

"Take a breath, Donnel." Chrom chuckled, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "What is it?"

"It's Robin, sir." Donnel replied, his breath returning in short gasps. "He's back."

"Where?" Chrom asked, eager to get some answers.

"He and Lady Maribelle are talking to her Exaltship in the throne room."

Chrom paused. "Their seeing Emm? Why?"

Donnel shook his head. "I don't know. I saw they had someone tied up with them."

Exasperated, Chrom pinched his nose. "Why does everything Robin does bring more questions?"

"I don't know, milord." Frederick replied, his own exasperation clear. "We should see what is happening at the very least."

* * *

Well before reaching their destination, Chrom heard the screeching voice from within.

"Damned Plegian! I'll have your head for this!"

The prince pushed the door open and strolled into the room, trying to make sense of the scene before him.

Robin was standing a short distance away, leaning against a pillar with a smug smile on his face as he watched an enraged man struggling to rise from his knees and glare hatefully at the Plegian despite the coarse rope biting into his wrists. Maribelle was on the man's left, shooting a disapproving glare at the prisoner. Seated in her throne was the Exalt, looking just as bewildered as Chrom did.

"What happened?" Chrom asked as he marched into the room.

"Ah, Chrom." Emmeryn smiled at her brother. "We are just waiting on-"

The door behind the prince flew open with an almighty crash.

Lord Garret stormed into the chamber, flanked on either side by armed knights.

"Lord Garret." Emmeryn nodded to the Councilman. "Thank you for joining us."

"I am here to put an end to the Plegian's charade." Lord Garrett spat. "What right does he have to accuse my son of anything?"

Emmeryn gestured to a seat, brought in by a pair of servants. "Please, Lord Garratt."

The Councilman sat, folding his arms. "Now, let's get this over with. What does the Grimleal accuse my son of?"

"I agree. Let us begin." Emmeryn nodded, turning to the bound man. "Lord Patrick. Please tell us your version of the events of last evening."

Patrick stopped struggling. He seemed to consider his situation for a moment, before a confident grin spread across his face.

"Of course, your grace." He began.

"My good friends and I were just enjoying a pleasant summer evening, when I heard news regarding a Plegian kidnapping Lady Maribelle. Of course, I was concerned about her safety and rushed to her aid. We discovered her, being held captive by that accursed Grimleal." He jerked his head towards Robin. "We tried to safely recover her from his clutches, but he has worked some kind of vile magic on her mind. She is his puppet, your grace! Kill him and free her!"

Emmeryn only nodded. "Thank you, Lord Patrick." She turned to Maribelle. "Maribelle, please tell me your version of events."

"Your grace." Maribelle nodded. "Robin and I had a…less then cordial conversation. But afterwards, I came to realize that his arguments were not invalid. Seeing that he and Stahl were traveling into the city, I decided to accompany them. We were attacked by this….man…. after we met with one of Robin's associates."

"She lies, your grace!" Patrick cried out desperately. "The Grimleal has tampered with her thoughts! You must-"

"Enough, Lord Patrick." Emmeryn stated, sending a cool glance in his direction as he rose from her throne. "You will be confined to the guest chamber's until I render my judgment."

"Your grace!" Lord Garrett cried furiously.

"Brother." Emmeryn called, ignoring her advisor. "Perhaps it would be better if you took Robin out of the capital for a time while I sort this matter out. You leave for Regna Ferox tomorrow. Until then, he is confined to the barracks."

"Of course Emm." Chrom nodded before turning to Robin and gesturing towards the door.

Without a word, Robin followed the Prince out of the throne room.

* * *

"-and then the miscreant had the audacity to lie to the Exalt." Maribelle finished her story.

"The creep!" Lissa cried, clenching her small fists. "Did he really think Emm would believe him?"

After the situation in the throne room had been taken out of her hands, Maribelle had returned to the barracks. Now seated in the mess hall, she was quickly surrounded by her fellow Shepherds, all inquiring about her ordeal.

"The worst part was that he did." The Noblewoman tried to make sense of what she had heard. "I don't understand how such a person could exist in Ylisse. It doesn't seem right."

"Well…." Sumia paused, plucking petals from a flower absentmindedly. "Maybe we could ask someone about it."

Maribelle nodded. "A brilliant idea, Sumia. And I know just who to ask."

A creak in the back of the room brought her attention to the person she had in mind.

Robin strolled past the trio, towards the table of food at the far side. He grabbed a small plate of meat and bread before seating himself at a small table in the corner of the room, ignoring the heated glare that Vaike and Sully sent him, flipping open another book.

Seeing an opportunity, Maribelle stood. "Well, no time like the present."

Robin glanced up from his book as the trio approached him, an indifferent look in his eye.

"Yes?" He asked, returning his gaze to his book.

"Good evening, Robin." Maribelle began, taking a seat opposite. "My colleagues and I are facing a dilemma and would like your opinion."

"Yeah! We need to know what you think!" Lissa chirped in, plopping down beside her friend.

"Very well." Robin snapped his book shut and placed it on the table, clasping his hands atop the cover. "What do you want to know?"

"We are interested in Patrick DuFord's character." Maribelle replied as Sumia settled into a seat of her own. "I wish to know where he could have learned of such behaviour. Certainly not in Ylisse."

"I'm afraid I have to burst your little delusional bubble, Maribelle." Robin rolled his eyes and folded his arms. "He acts like that because, before the incident last night, he was never in danger of being caught."

"W-What do you mean?" Lissa demanded. "Emm would never let this happen!"

"I believe that she wouldn't." Robin nodded. "But the Exalt can't exactly do anything about it."

"Can you elaborate on that, sir?" Maribelle asked, pondering Robin's words.

Robin sighed. "It's rather easy. After the Crusade, Ylisse wasn't in the best of conditions."

"Yeah…." Lissa frowned sadly. She remembered seeing Emmeryn return to the castle more than once with fresh bruises or cuts. "But Emm fixed that. She made the people happy."

"No." Robin shook his head, frowning like he was correcting a poor student's incorrect school work. "She only got them to stop blaming her. She preaches peace and understanding to her people and they hail her as a symbol of Ylisse's best qualities, but when she isn't looking, hate very easily reasserts itself and seeing that Emmeryn herself is no longer a target, the people turned to the only people they could still blame their losses for."

"The Plegians..." Maribelle realized. "Many Ylissians died during the war, on Exalt Cameron's orders. He conscripted hundreds of thousands into the army to keep fighting the Grimleal."

"And most of those conscripts died." Robin confirmed and for a moment, the trio before him could see the grief behind the blue in his eyes. "So the people who cared about them lash out at the Plegians in their reach."

"Naga…" Sumia breathed, her flower crushed in her clenched hand. "How could this have happened with no one noticing?"

"Easily." Robin stated, simply. "Like I said, countless people died in the Crusade. You'd have a hard time finding one person in either nation that didn't lose someone they loved. That includes quite a few members of the Nobility." He turned his attention back to Maribelle. "Your class is responsible for maintaining law and order among the common people, correct?"

"Of course." Maribelle confirmed. "The Nobility ensures those who commit crimes are punished."

"And that is why many hate crimes happen right under their nose." Robin spat. "If say, a nobleman lost his father to the Crusade, leaving him in a position to judge those under his rule, do think he would be unbiased towards the people that killed his father, especially when presented a chance to hurt those he holds responsible?"

Maribelle fell silent, not wanting to confirm Robin's words but also unable to deny them.

* * *

The Shepherds had left Ylisstol at first light, beginning the long march north.

Chrom began leading the march from the front, but after what he deemed an appropriate amount of time, slipped back, looking for the familiar white hair.

He found Robin near the center of the group's formation, marching alongside Stahl and apparently telling some story.

"-and that's why I'm not allowed at that inn anymore."

Stahl slapped a hand over his mouth, but it did little good as laughter tore itself from his lips.

Chrom smiled. Maybe there was hope for his plan after all.

"What's so funny?" The prince asked, grinning as Stahl ceased laughing.

Robin glanced his way only for a moment before returning to the road. "Nothing of importance, Prince."

Chrom frowned. Maybe his plan still hadn't bore the fruit he had hoped.

"Walk with me?" He asked, falling into step alongside the conscript.

"It's your militia." Robin shrugged, but made no effort to get away.

"So, you've travelled a lot?" Chrom asked.

"More than the average man, I suppose." Robin confirmed. "Been all over Ylisse, went to Valm once or twice."

"What about Regna Ferox?"

"Spent seven years there."

"Really?" Chrom's interest had been piqued. "What's it like?"

"Rough and strong are the best words to describe it." Robin began. "In Ferox, strength is everything. Their leaders, the Kahns, are decided by who can gather the most supporters, and the Feroxi will only follow a great warrior."

Chrom's face twisted in confusion. "They don't have a monarchy?"

"No, when a rival warrior seeks to become a Kahn, they must first rally enough supporters to oppose the current ruling Kahn. The Kahn then faces them in a tournament to decide who rules. The people decide who leads them."

"That sounds completely barbaric."

Robin came the prince a hard look. "Makes more sense to choose a ruler based on merit, instead of who your parents are. Maybe if Ylisse thought like that, it wouldn't have spawned the greatest mass murderer since the Schism."

Chrom cursed his own stupidity, trying to salvage the conversation before Robin shut him out completely. "What can we expect when we get there?"

Robin shrugged. "Depends on who you talk to and what you offer them."

"Offer them?"

Now it was Robin's turn to look confused. "Well, yeah. You're asking for their help. They're going to want something in return." He gave Chrom a searching look. "What, did you think the Feroxi would help Ylisse because you asked nicely?"

"I…kind of did." Chrom admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

Robin shook his head in disgust. "How can you be that naïve?"

"I just thought they'd be willing to help Ylisse if we asked." Chrom defended weakly. "I mean, why wouldn't they?"

"You have this bad habit of thinking Ylisse is the center of the world." Robin rolled his eyes. "Let me tell you something you should already know. Most nations couldn't care less what happens in the Halidom as long as it doesn't affect them."

"But my people are in danger!" Chrom cried. "Surely the Feroxi will be willing to help defend them."

"Again, only if you can convince them it's a better idea to have Ylisse as an ally and Plegia an enemy then to have them both indifferent." There was no emotion in Robin's voice. Every word was a cold, hard, fact. "If war with Plegia does break out, you're asking the Feroxi to send an unknown number of their men to their deaths in a fight that, as of now, they have no stake in."

Chrom felt as if a pile of bricks had settled in his stomach. "How can you be so sure they won't help us?"

"I'm only telling you what I know." Robin shrugged. "The Feroxi didn't get involved with the Crusade because it wasn't their fight. Now, when Plegia is obviously retaliating for the atrocities Ylisse committed against them, you want them to suddenly side against Plegia?"

Robin shook his head.

"I think it's very likely that the Feroxi will see these attacks as Ylisse paying for it's crimes."

Chrom's fists clenched involuntarily. "My father was the man responsible for the Crusade, and he's dead! The rest of us are innocent!"

"Not true." Robin countered. "Even the Exalt can't declare a Holy War without the support of the council. Don't think I'm making blind accusations, Prince. I've done my research into the Crusade. Your father was quite the politician, according to most sources. He got the church to support him by promising to destroy the Grimleal and the council by promising large pieces of Plegian land and gold after the genocide had been completed. With their backing, your father got his Crusade."

Chrom gapped, half-finished syllables forcing themselves from his lips as he tried to find a counter argument.

"Look, Chrom." Robin stopped marching and turned to look at him fully. "I know that your sister is a very different ruler then your father, but Plegia isn't going to just forget what's happened between it and Ylisse. At this point, Gangrel is being driven solely by his hatred of your father and your nation. I don't think anything the Exalt does will make him back down. Your father has given him all the justification he needs to start another war."

"Then…what can we do?" Chrom asked, his palms growing sweaty with unease.

"I don't think there's much you can do." Robin shrugged. "If the Feroxi don't agree to lend you military support then Ylisse is pretty much screwed."

"Then we'll just have to make sure we get their help, then." Chrom nodded in determination before turning on his heel and marching away, trying to put the Plegian's words out of his head.

* * *

The march had been fairly uneventful. They marched for as long as the sun would allow, then made camp in the evenings.

It was during the fourth day that brought the repetition to an end.

"Milord!" Frederick called as he brought his steed a halt in front of his liege. "A large group of bandits have taken control of the road ahead."

"Where?" Chrom demanded, his hand going to Falchion.

"Over the next ridge."

Chrom broke into a sprint, covering the distance as fast as he could with his army trailing behind.

As the Prince reached the precipice, he came to halt, surveying the path ahead.

The group was indeed quite large, enough to occupy the only bridge over a fairly deep river. The bandits were armed and ready, even from the top of the hill Chrom could make out the weapons they carried and the armour that a few of them wore.

"Seems we have no choice then." Chrom pulled Falchion from it's sheath. "Everyone, to arms! These bandits won't be harming anyone again."

Everyone present cried out in response, with the exception of Robin.

Something seemed off about these bandits. Maybe it was the high quality of their weapons, or the way they didn't seem to be at all concerned about the armed militia that was now standing in plain view.

In fact, these people weren't acting like bandits at all.

Therefore, they are not bandits.

Before the Prince and his followers could begin their blind charge, Robin rushed forwards and threw himself in front of them, arms spread.

"Robin?" Chrom asked, skidding to a halt.

"Chrom, if you go charging down there, you might as well cut your own throat." Robin proclaimed firmly, his eyes not once leaving the prince's.

"Is that a threat?!" Frederick demanded, jumping from his war-horse to stand between the Plegian and the Prince. "After everything you've done, what gives-"

"Frederick, enough." Chrom interrupted, stepping around his lieutenant. "Robin, what do you mean?"

"I mean, rushing down there will only get you and every Shepherd here killed."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sully demanded, spurring her horse towards the Pelgian and leveling her lance at his heart. "Do you think we can't handle a few outlaws?"

"If those men were common bandit's, I wouldn't be saying anything." Robin replied, not at all intimidated by the cavalier. "But those men are not common bandits."

"And how would you know that?" Frederick stormed towards him, lance poised to strike.

"Just take your head out of your ass and look at them." Robin spat, gesturing towards the group. "We've been standing here for more than long enough for them to see us, but they haven't done anything about us. Why?"

"Maybe their waiting for your signal to spring their trap!" Sully accused hotly.

"Or maybe they're waiting for your attack." Robin's frustration was growing by the second. "Just look at them for a second. What can you see?"

Chrom glanced towards the group. Robin was right. Bandits would have attacks already. "Robin, just what are you saying?"

"Those men are not bandits." Robin replied, pointedly ignoring the death glares he was receiving. "Just look at their weapons. What would a bandit have to do with a Beast Killer lance?"

Chrom didn't have an answer for that. It was true, several of the armed men in the valley were carrying the unmistakable shape of the animal slaying weapons.

"Those men are in a position to hold that bridge and force the Shepherds to engage them." Robin continued. "No bandits would do that. And think about it for a second. We're miles from the nearest town and this road is not exactly well traveled. No bandit groups would set up out here."

"But if they're not bandits who are they?" Chrom asked, growing more and more confused.

Robin cast a worried glance over his shoulder. "Based on what I've seen of their weaponry and formation, I'm afraid to say that those men are Plegian."

"Wait, if their Plegian-"

Robin nodded. "I think it's a safe bet that Gangrel knows about your mission and wants to make sure you never make it to Regna Ferox."

"And so are our true colors are revealed!" Frederick roared, driving his lance towards Robin.

"Frederick, stand down!" Chrom cried as the Plegian sidestepped the attack. "If he told them about this mission, why would he have told us about the ambush?!"

"And when could I have told anyone, knight? I've been with Stahl since we came back to Ylisse!" Robin added, falling into a defensive stance.

Frederick froze, caught between the instinct to obey his lord and the desire to put down the traitorous Plegian before he could do more damage. Eventually, his instincts won out and he lowered his lance, scowling at Robin the whole time.

"Look, Prince Chrom, I'm stuck with you right now, so if you want to charge down there and get yourself killed, I'd be forced to follow you, but seeing as I would very much like to survive this, I can't let you."

"Then what can we do?" Chrom asked.

"I think we could win this fight, IF we plan it out properly." Robin continued, turning back to the Plegian. "Give me a minute…"

"Milord, I must protest-"

"Enough!" Chrom roared, whirling on his bodyguard.

Frederick's eyes widened. He knew his lord had a temper, but he never vented it on his own men.

"Robin just saved our lives, Frederick." Chrom hissed. "If you have any evidence besides his nationality that proves he has betrayed us, please present it."

Frederick said nothing, but his fists clenched around his lance.

"Alright, I've got something." Robin stated, nodding. "We just need someone to draw those Myrmidons…"

"I could."

Robin spun on his heel, eyes wide as the voice seemed to come from the empty space beside him.

"Who are you?!" he demanded.

"I'm Kellam." The voice stated. "I've been here since we started marching."

Robin narrowed his eyes and, sure enough, he made out the vague shape of a heavily armoured knight.

"Okay." Robin breathed, turning to a very amused Chrom. "Any other surprises I should know about?"

"Not that I can think of." Chrom chuckled. "What's your plan?"

"Those man are expecting a blind charge." Robin explained. "So we have to do the opposite. Set up a formation and get them to charge us."

"So you want us to just sit back and sip tea while the Plegians run us down?" Sully sneered.

"No, we divide their attention." Robin continued, not looking away from the future battlefield. "There are only a few of them are carrying Beast Killers and from what I can see, only one hammer. So we keep our mounted forces away from the Soldiers and our armoured forces away from their Axe fighter and we can deal with the rest."

"Damn it, Chrom! How can you listen to this Grimleal?!" Sully demanded.

"Robin helped us save Donnel's Village, Sully." Stahl stated, spurring his horse to stand alongside his fellow Chevalier. "I say we trust him on this."

"I growed up with Robin Mrs. Sully." Donnel chimed in. "I'd listen to him."

Sully growled in frustration before urging her horse away.

"Just get this done, Plegian." She hissed as she passed.

* * *

Robin nodded to himself as he watched the Shepherds work.

It had taken a direct order from Chrom do convince a few of the Shepherds to accept Robin's course of action, but now they were almost in position, paired up and weapons ready.

"Are you sure this will work, Robin?" Stahl asked, once again filling the role Robin's battle partner.

"It should." Robin confirmed. "As long as everyone does what they're supposed to do, we shouldn't have any problem with this."

Stahl nodded. "We should get ready then. Chrom should be giving the signal soon."

"Ready if you are." Robin pulled the steel blade from his belt, rolling his shoulders and cracking his stiff joints.

"Everyone, NOW." Chrom cried, holding Falchion high.

Robin sprinted towards his target, a heavily built Berserker clutching a finely forged Hammer.

With a roar of fury, the large man swung his weapon as fast as he could, but only met empty air.

Robin threw himself forwards, slipping under the man's deadly arc. Rolling to his feet, he brought his weapon around, only for it to collide with the heavy wooden shaft of the Berserker's hammer.

Realizing he had underestimated his opponent, Robin leaped back, avoiding the Berserker's weapon by a hair's width.

Robin fell into a defensive stance, watching the berserker and trying to get a handle on his strengths and possible weaknesses.

His weapon was heavy, but he wielded it with skill as well as strength. He wore little armour over his heavily muscled body, giving him little defense, but didn't reduce his speed.

A warrior would only wear that kind of armor if they either had a healer nearby or if they planned to avoid strikes instead of taking them.

A smirk spread across Robin's face.

This was the kind of opponent he was trained to fight.

The Berserker leaped forward, bringing his hammer down with a vertical crush with all the strength he could muster.

Robin sidestepped aside before rushing forwards.

Downside of long reach.

Slower recovery time.

Before the Berserker could regain his balance, Robin had already plunged his weapon deep into his muscular chest.

The Berserker roared in agony as Robin wretched his blade back, crimson liquid bursting from the wound like a broken dam.

By the time the Berserker collapsed to the ground, he was already dead.

His opponent defeated, Robin turned to survey the battlefield.

Chrom and Sumia were fighting the leader, the golden edge of Falchion clashing against hardened Silver. It didn't last long before Chrom delivered a killing blow.

Not far away, Donnel and Kellam were dealing with the trio of Myrmidons. Or rather, Donnel was dealing with one while the others ran away, screaming something about a ghost.

All around, Robin smiled.

The Shepherds had won.

 **A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long. Issues with work and school kept me busy, and then my internet went down.**

 **I've always just found Ylisse to be a little too perfect in the game and Emmeryn always seemed WAY too** **altruistic. I feels good to add a few flaws to it.**


	9. Chapter 9: Regna Ferox

"So, you're both a warrior and a strategist?"

Robin glanced up at Stahl. The duo had been marching side-by-side since the morning. It had been a day since their engagement with the Plegians, and since then, Robin hadn't said a word.

"I guess so." Robin shrugged. "I'm not one to boast."

"So I've noticed." Stahl chuckled. "For what it's worth, thank you."

Robin shrugged. "Someone had to stop your prince from getting you all killed."

Stahl frowned. "Chrom might be a little rash-"

"Understatement."

"-But he's a good man and a good leader." Stahl finished. "He just doesn't always think before he acts."

"And that is a quality a leader cannot have." Robin replied bitterly. "He keeps going like that and it's only a matter of time before something terrible happens."

"I suppose." Stahl nodded, frowning at Robin's cold logic. "I heard you've been to Regna Ferox before."

"Haven't just been there. I lived in Ferox for seven years."

"Really?" Stahl asked in surprise. "I thought you grew up in Ylisse?"

"I did." Robin confirmed. "When I left the village, Ylisse wasn't exactly accepting of me and Plegia was barely standing. So I went with my third option."

"So, what should we be expecting when we get there?"

Robin smirked. "I think you're about to get the answer to that question. Look."

As the Shepherds cleared the last hill, a massive work of masonry came into view.

"So that's the Longfort?" Stahl asked, tilting his head back to view the top of the fortress.

"Yep. Feroxi's first line of defence." Robin nodded. "Hopefully, Chrom remembers what I told him."

* * *

Chrom raised his hand, signaling the Shepherds to halt.

"So, we're finally here." He muttered to himself, looking up at the imposing structure.

"Yes, Milord." Frederick nodded as he stopped alongside his liege, warily watching the battlements of the fort. "Hopefully the Feroxi will be open to diplomacy."

"…Maybe they won't be…" Chrom grimaced.

"Milord?" Frederick asked in surprise.

"It's just something Robin told me." Chrom supplied. "He said the Feroxi respect strength. Maybe we should show ours. It would get their attention."

"And sabotage our negotiations before they even began!" Frederick's face was aghast. "Milord, this calls for simple diplomacy, not an unprovoked attack."

"You're probably right." Chrom nodded, putting the issue aside.

He would do as Emm would want and negotiate their way inside.

"Halt!" A woman's voice called from atop the Longfort. "Who goes there?"

Steeling his nerves, Chrom cleared his throat before calling with all the authority he could muster.

"In the name of the Exalted Family, I request audience with the Kahn!"

Frederick smiled to himself. He had foiled the Plegian's attempts to sabotage this alliance. Any moment now the gates would open and-

"Hold it right there, my bold lad." The woman shouted back. "I have lancers at the ready."

Chrom froze, eyes widening as he caught sight of the sun gleaming from the dozens of freshly sharpened javelins the guards held, ready to release at a moment's notice.

"Hold, lady knight!" Frederick shouted, pulling his horse in front of Chrom to shield him from the potential danger. "We are here to discuss a matter of mutual importance to both Ylisse and the Feroxi."

"The only business I have to keep you brigands out of Regna Ferox." The Guardswoman hissed, pointing her lance at the Great knight.

"B-Brigands?!"

Frederick's vision went red.

"How dare you?!" He roared, thrusting his Sliver Lance towards the guardswoman threateningly. "You stand in the presence of Prince Chrom himself, the Exalts own blood! You will let us in this instant!"

"Ha! And I'm the queen of Valm!" Came the sarcastic reply. "You do know impersonating royalty is punishable by death, correct?"

Chrom's mind was racing, trying to find a way to stop the situation from deteriorating further.

"Emm won't like this at all." He muttered to himself before calling out once more. "Please, good lady. If you'd just-"

"RAIMI!"

Everyone present spun as Robin forced his way to front of the group alongside the prince and pulled back his hood.

Raimi's eyes widened with recognition before a grin spread across her face. "Hey, twerp. Wondered when you'd decided to grace my fort with your presence again." She cast a glance towards the Prince. "So is this the real prince?"

Robin cast a quick glance towards Chrom and had to suppress a chuckle at the confusion that was evident.

"Yes, he is really the prince of Ylisse." Robin called back. "Would you please open the gate now? My throats starting to hurt."

Raimi nodded, turning to her men. "Open the gates."

* * *

Chrom could only stare in astonishment as the massive steel gate was retracted and thick wooden doors creaked open.

Raimi was marching down a long flight of stairs on the far side, moving towards them.

Frederick stormed towards her, fury pulsing through his veins.

"Guardswoman, you have insulted my lord! I demand-"

Raimi shoved him aside without a word, ignoring everyone else until she was face to face with the Plegian.

"So, you're back?" She asked, her expression unreadable.

"For the time being." Robin confirmed, his eyes darting to the sides, assessing possible escape plans.

"You have a lot of nerve showing your face here." Raimi continued, scowling. "It was your fault, you know."

"For the last time, I was stuck in Valm…." Robin defended, glancing nervously around as Raimi stepped closer, bringing to two chest to chest.

Raimi drew her arm back.

Robin reflexively ducked, only to realize his mistake.

The Feroxi's arm coiled around his neck, bringing him into an effective headlock.

Raimi chucked as Robin vainly struggled against her grip. "Still clinging to that excuse, twerp?"

"I'm sorry! How many times do I have to say it?!" Robin cried, a note of desperation sliding into his voice.

"You can explain it to Flavia, twerp." The knight began to march back towards the fort, dragging Robin behind her, pausing only to glance at the prince. "If you want to meet the Kahn, come with us."

Without waiting for a response, the knight continued dragging Robin away, ignoring the Plegian's increasingly annoyed protests.

Chrom rubbed his eyes, trying to dispel what had to be an illusion. Robin, the stoic Plegian that never seemed to be fazed by any opponent, was being dragged into Regna Ferox by his head.

"Milord?" Frederick asked, glancing at his charge's face.

"I guess…we go with them." Chrom replied, gesturing for the Shepherds to follow him.

* * *

Robin finally managed to dislodge himself from Raimi's headlock and fell into step beside her. He glanced skywards. Hopefully they'd reach the Arena before another blizzard hit.

"So, how did you get involved with the Ylissian Prince?" Raimi asked, breaking the silence. "Last time you were here, you said, and this a direct quote, 'I'd rather die than serve those murderers'."

"I'm not with them by choice." Robin replied. "Just was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got on the bad side of a corrupt noble."

"Wait!" Raimi gasped sarcastically. "Aren't all nobles corrupt?"

"Just about." Robin chuckled. I felt good to be with an old friend.

"So, what brings your group to Ferox?" Raimi asked.

"The Crusade." Robin grimaced, as if the words left a bad taste in his mouth. "Plegia's been hiring bandit clans to raid Ylissian towns and the Exalt's hoping the Feroxi will help protect her people."

"Doesn't the Halidom have an army for that?"

"Not anymore. When Emmeryn's father was killed, most the army that remained were conscripts. Emmeryn disbanded them and let the survivors return home. She never rebuilt the Ylissian army after that."

Raimi glanced behind her, catching sight of the prince jogging after them.

"So what kind of man is the prince?" She asked, sizing up the young royal.

"Naïve, hasty and idealistic." Robin shrugged. "Pretty much what I'd expect."

"Robin!" Chrom cried, slowing and falling into step alongside the duo. "What was that about?"

"I told you I spent years in Regna Ferox." Robin shrugged.

Chrom's teeth were clenched so hard he almost feared they would shatter. "Why didn't you tell us you knew the guard captain?!"

"Because I was hoping to make your negotiations with the Kahn easier." Robin shot back. He didn't take the Prince's tone well. "I told you the Feroxi respect strength, but when the opportunity came for you to gain that respect, you chose to ignore my words."

"He's right on that, Prince." Raimi stated. "If you had challenged me for entry, you could have earned more respect amongst the Feroxi. The Kahn doesn't waste time on weaklings."

Chrom sputtered indignantly. "We are not weak! The Shepherds have been defending Ylisse for over a year now!"

"So you've killed some brigands." Raimi couldn't have sounded more uncaring if she'd tried. "That doesn't amount to much here, princeling. Unless you can match a Feroxi Warrior, you're little more than child."

"Now look here, Guard!" Chrom demanded, stepping in front of Raimi until the two were chest to chest. "I understand the Feroxi have a different way of doing things, but I will not tolerate disrespect to my army!"

Raimi regarded to prince with a frown before shoving past him once more,

"Maybe there's hope for you yet."

The air was tense enough to cut with a knife.

"How do you know Robin?" Chrom asked when he could take the silence no more. "You seemed to be close."

Raimi chuckled. "The twerp just showed up one day and demanded entrance. When I told him to hit the road, he clocked me in the jaw."

"And you just let him in?!" Chrom as aghast.

"He was little more than a child, but was still willing to fight for what he wanted." Raimi stated, as if it should have been obvious. "That was enough for me to let him in."

"Look, Chrom." Robin cut in before the Prince could respond. "I know that you don't understand how the Feroxi think, but for now, let's just look past it and remember why you're here."

* * *

Raimi led the Shepherds into a massive stone building that Chrom could only assume was a palace and the prince was grateful for the reprieve from the frozen wind.

It had been several days of hard traveling from the Longfort to reach this place. Several days of harsh wind, and wet snow falling down his clothes. More than once he had glanced enviously at Robin's cloak, despite the thick wool cloak Frederick had insisted he put on.

Even within the structure, the air was cold enough to send a shiver down Chrom's back, almost to the point of shivering.

The group continued following the Guardswoman into a large circular room, containing a large, U-shaped table. A massive brazier was alight behind it, finally letting the air warm to something resembling comfortable.

"Wait here a moment, Prince." Raimi said over her shoulder. I will summon the Kahn."

Without waiting for a response, the Guard Captain marched out a door on the far side of the room.

"The Kahn is away?" Chrom asked, glancing at Robin.

"Out training, most likely." The Plegian replied. "You don't remain Kahn for long without staying strong."

"Milord, loathe as I am to say, it might be prudent to remove your cloak." Frederick turned to his change. "Perhaps seeing the Brand will make the Kahn more reasonable."

"Don't count on it." Robin uttered.

Chrom glanced at his conscripted Plegian. "Any advice, Robin?"

"Milord, I advi-"

"We're not doing this again, Frederick. Drop it." Chrom shot the knight a hard look before turning back to Robin. "What do you suggest, Robin?"

"Be firm." Robin shrugged. "Don't let the Kahn intimidate you and, like I said, be ready to negotiate."

"Right." Chrom nodded, steeling himself. "I can do that."

"Hopefully we'll catch her in a good mood…" Robin added as quiet as he could.

The door Raimi had left from flew open with a mighty crash, revealing a sight that made Robin very uneasy.

She hadn't changed since he had left. Even the look unpredictable look in her eye as she marched towards him

' _No, she is not a giant. She's only few inches taller than you. She is not going to attack you.'_ Robin told himself as she came to a halt before him.

"So, you're back, then?" She asked curtly.

"Flavia, I-"

"You have a lot of nerve what you did."

Robin sighed. "I got stuck in Valm! I'd have gotten back here if I could have."

"I lost the tournament because you weren't here, twerp." Flavia's tone and face were unreadable.

Robin paled and chuckled worriedly. "Was that a compliment?"

A small grin spread across Flavia's face. "Maybe. It's good to have you back, twerp."

"Ahem." Chrom cleared his throat. "Robin, introductions please."

Robin nodded. "Chrom, this is Flavia. Kahn of the Eastern lands. We're in her territory. Flavia, this is Chrom. Prince of Ylisse and Captain of the Shepherds."

"Pleased to meet you." Chrom extended a hand.

"Likewise." Flavia gripped the Prince's hand.

Chrom expected a handshake, but Flavia didn't seem to share that sentiment. She tightened her grip and Chrom could feel the sheer strength this woman possessed. It wasn't long before Chrom began to lose feeling in his hand.

When Flavia finally released her grip, Chrom had to fight the urge to sigh in relief.

"Now, on to business, shall we?" Flavia stated. "What brings you to Regna Ferox, Prince?"

"The safety of my people." Chrom began. "For the last few months, Plegia has been sending brigands across our borders to attack my people. We are here to ask for an alliance with your great nation to ensure their safety."

"You speak well, Prince Chrom." Flavia nodded. "But here in Regna Ferox we appreciate plain speech. Why should we ally with you?"

Chrom's eyes widened. "Khan Flavia?"

"We've had a stable relationship for over a decade and so far, you've only explained how the Feroxi can help Ylisse." Flavia continued, watching the Prince's reaction with interest. "What benefits would we gain from a full alliance?"

Chrom flinched, remembering Robin's words from earlier. "Well…I…"

"You didn't even have an offer ready, did you?" Flavia rolled her eyes. "Just thought that the northern barbarians would leap at the chance for a fight, huh?"

"So you won't help us?" The prince asked, his heart sinking.

"If it wasn't for my current situation, I'd be sending by to your sister." Flavia shook her head.

"Situation?" Robin asked, glancing at the Kahn with interest.

"During the last several months, large groups have been attempting to raid Feroxi towns, dressed in Ylissian armour and carrying Ylissian weapons." Flaivia continued.

"The Halidom would never resort to such actions!" Frederick snapped angrily, having to stop his hand from shooting to his lance.

"I know that." Flavia continued, ignoring the knight's rage. "We found messages on a few of their bodies. Apparently, they were sent by King Gangrel. He wants to raise tensions between our nations."

"Damn them!" Chrom roared before he realized where he was.

"Forgive me, Khan Flavia." He apologized, feeling like a foolish child. "That was indelicately up."

"Ha!" Flavia laughed. "Damn them and damn delicacy. Like I said, the Feroxi appreciate plain speech."

"So, about those imposters…" Robin hinted.

"Oh yes." Flavia continued, turning to face the Plegian. "Like I said, normally, you'd already be on your way back to your Halidom and fight your battle alone, but if Plegia is determined to drag the Feroxi into this, well, we might as well fight with Ylisse."

"So you'll help us?" Chrom asked, hopes soaring.

"If it was up me, we'd be negotiating. But unfortunately," Flavia shot another glance at Robin. "I don't have the authority."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand." Chrom's hopes fell slightly as his frustration grew. "Aren't you the Kahn?"

"You're talking about the tournament." Robin cursed, pinching his brow as he felt a headache coming on.

"I am indeed. Because you weren't here, I lost the throne." Flavia's expression changed, as if she was sucking on a sweet that had turned sour. "Mitch and Rami did their best, but Lon'qu and some mercenary managed to beat them."

"I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?" Chrom demanded, tired of being left out of the conversation.

"Every few years, the Kahns of the east and west hold a tournament. Whomever wins gains control over both kingdoms." Robin explained. "The West Kahn won the last tournament, so he has the final say in any alliances."

"So this was all a waste of time?!" Chrom had hit the end of his patience. "If you can't give us the support we need, why are we even here?!"

"Because I have an offer for you." Flaiva said curtly, clearly unimpressed by the young man's attitude. "The Tournament is being held again in three days' time. If I win the tournament this year, then I would be able and willing to negotiate an alliance."

"Very well." Chrom breathed out his frustration. "I will represent you in this tournament."

"You misunderstand, Prince Chrom." Flavia replied. "I don't want you to represent me."

The East Kahn walked over to Robin.

"I want YOU to represent me." Flavia grinned widely.

"Great…" Robin breathed, less than enthusiastic.

"Kahn Flavia, I must protest this!" Frederick, predictably, objected. "Who's to say he won't throw the match?!"

"My reputation for one, knight." Robin spat. "I'm well known in the arena. The people would know if I lost the match on purpose and I would be a pariah. I get enough of that already, so kindly shut up."

Chrom frowned at Robin's harsh tone. With the rest of the Shepherds, Robin was distant, but willing to talk if approached. He didn't let them close, but only treated them harshly if they did the same to him. It even seemed like Stahl had become something of a friend to him.

With Frederick, however, he was outright hostile. The prince couldn't remember a conversation between the two where Robin was trying to be civil.

"So you've been in one of these tournaments before?" Frederick asked, narrowing his burning brown eyes in suspicion. "How convenient you never mentioned this."

"I don't owe your kind any explanations, least of all you, knight." Robin's voice was more venomous then a Valmese Black Frog.

"Robin leads my team, or there's no alliance." Flavia stated with finality, glaring hard into the knight.

"We accept those terms." Chrom confirmed before Frederick could open his mouth.

"Good." Flavia nodded. "Raimi, take the Prince's entourage to the guest rooms. I want a word with Robin."

As the Shepherds were led away, Frederick casting one last accusing gaze at Robin, Flavia glanced at her Champion.

"That's him, then?" She asked, an unusual note of gentleness slipping into her voice.

"Yes." Robin breathed hatefully.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to make him pay." Robin hissed, turning towards the door. "And then I'm going to send him to hell."

"Are you sure that's what you want to do?" Flavia asked. "I know you, Robin, and I don't want you to make a decision you'll regret."

"It is." Robin answered flatly.

"Alright then." Flavia nodded. "If the time comes, I won't stand in your way."

* * *

"Ung.." Lissa groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "It's too early for this."

"Disturbing milady's slumber is indeed a heinous offence." Frederick agreed.

The royals, their bodyguard and Sumia had been awoken by a harsh pounding on their doors a summons to the training field. The sun hadn't even made it's way into view, the sky still much closer to black then blue.

"It's not so bad." Chrom countered gently, despite having to fight back his own yawn. "I just want to know what Robin wants with us."

"Oh, good. You're all here."

The four Ylissians turned to the entrance.

Robin was marching onto the field, followed closely by a man they did not recognize.

He was dressed a strong looking set of steel armour, complete with a very large shield and lance slung across his back.

"And who is this?" Frederick demanded, shooting a hard glare at the Plegian.

"The last member of our team." Robin replied bluntly. "This is Mitch."

"Good morning." Mitch greeted, matching the knight's hard glare.

"Team?" Lissa asked.

"For the tournament." Robin clarified. "The six of us are going to represent Kahn Flavia. Chrom, from what I saw in the battle on the road, you and Sumia make an effective team."

"R-Really?!" Sumia stammered, a fierce blush spreading across her face.

"Yes." Robin stated disinterestedly. "Lissa is the only healer we have and we need someone to carry her quickly and guard her while she works. That is your only job, knight."

Frederick's mind raced trying to find the Grimleal's angle. There had to be a plot here. Somehow this is an attempt on his charge's lives.

"Mitch and I will be our own pair." Robin shrugged. "Any questions?"

"Why do you get to make these decisions?" Frederick asked, folding his arms. "As Captain of the Shepherds, I think Milord should have at least some say in this."

"If he was Flavia's Champion, he would." Robin hissed back. "Now, you can either accept my decisions here, or I can march down to town and find some other capable warriors. In Ferox we have a bit of a surplus of those."

"It's fine." Chrom cut in, shooting Frederick a nasty look. "I see no reason not to follow Robin's suggestions for this."

"Good." Robin replied, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Now it's on to training."

"Training?" Lissa whimpered. "This early?"

"Yep." Robin nodded. "And not the Ylissian kind. Feroxi Training."

 **A/N: So, another shortish chapter. It was originally a bit longer, but for the Tournament, it just fit better to have it as it's own Chapter, so a little more exposition is out of the way.**

 **Also, I'm going to be gone for a while. Probably wont be able to upload anything until probably the 23rd of July.**

 **Please, leave a review if with feedback or CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. It really helps me keep going. :)**

 **Flamers need not apply.**


	10. Chapter 10: Arena

Chrom collapsed onto his bed, gasping for breath.

He had been training as a warrior for years, under the knight that many claimed was a slave driver.

Now he was thinking that the rest of the Shepherds were right. Frederick was far too easy on him.

During the last two days, he learned what torture really was.

Robin's training began with a group run alongside Sumia. It wasn't too hard, seeing as he had to stop ever few paces to help her up, but what followed was a brutal regiment of strength and weapon exercises that left his muscles feeling like they were going to collapse in protest.

"Chrom?" He heard a knock on his door. "Are you alright?"

The prince forced himself into a sitting position, grimacing at the pain.

"Sumia? I'm fine." He replied.

The Pegasus knight pushed the door open, the concern on her face plainly showing.

"Are you sure? Did Robin push you too hard?"

"No. I'm a little sore, but I think I'll be ready for tomorrow." The prince smiled, but even that movement sent another ache through his body. "Did you need something?"

"Oh!" Sumia gasped, remembering why she came looking for the prince, holding out her hands. "I just baked you this pie."

"Oh." Chrom accepted the gift. "Thank you, Sumia. It smells great."

"Thank you." Sumia's blush intensified. "I-I better go."

"See you in the arena." Chrom smiled as Sumia left him be, stabbing into the pastry once more.

A quiet thud caught his attention.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

* * *

Flavia smiled cheerfully to herself as she made her way up the stairs.

The tournament was about to begin and this time, she was confidant the throne would be hers.

The Kahn's destination was the central viewing stage. Offering the best view of the arena, it was reserved for the Kahns and whomever else they allowed in.

"Ah, Flavia." A deep voice greeted as she stepped into the box. "I was almost afraid you weren't going to show."

"Basilio." Flavia greeted, grinning.

"Someone's looking hopeful today." The West Kahn chuckled. "Too bad my team's going to dash those hopes soon."

"We'll see about that." Flavia replied, taking her seat alongside her fellow Kahn at noticing that the duo were not alone.

"Oh, Olivia." Flavia greeted the shy dancer. "Didn't see you there."

"Hello, Kahn Flavia." She replied politely. "I hope you found a worthy Champion this year."

"Oh, I did." Flavia laughed. "He'll put anyone you throw at him to shame."

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" A voice boomed from below, magically augmented to reach the entire arena. "The Tournament is about to begin!"

A chorus of cheers followed from the massive crowd.

"Representing the West and our Reigning Kahn, The Masked Mercenary, Marth!"

The cheers grew even louder as Basilio's team entered from the left.

March himself was at the head, his face concealed by his butterfly mask and his sword hanging on his hip.

Basilio looked down at him with a confidant smile.

"Don't get so hopeful, oaf." Flavia's insult held no venom.

"Oh? Got a wildcard this year?" Basilio asked, taking a drink from a very large mug.

"and representing the East, returning to the arena after three years of absence, the Grandmaster himself, Robin!"

Basilio choked on his drink as his gaze flew to the right and, sure enough, Robin was leading his team into the arena, his white hair and purple cloak was unmistakeable.

"Well, that should make things more interesting, don't you think?" Flavia asked, folding his arms and shooting a satisfied look at her counterpart as he managed to clear his airway.

As the Kahns began bickering behind her, Olivia stared down at Robin as he gave orders to his team.

"So you are back." She whispered, smiling softly.

* * *

"So that's Marth?" Robin asked no one in particular as he looked over his competition, formulating his strategy.

"Recognize your associate, Grimleal?" Frederick asked with deliberate casualness.

"Just do your damn job, Knight." Robin shot back without emotion. "Alright, I have an idea."

"Orders?" Mitch asked, pulling his large shield and long lance from his back.

"Mitch covers me while I take out those knights. Chrom and Sumia take her Pegasus and deal with those mages. Lissa and the knight reinforce and heal either group as needed. Then we move on to Marth and that mercenary he has with him."

"I want to fight Marth." Chrom stated firmly. "There are I few things I need to ask him."

"Fine." Robin shrugged. "Just don't do anything stupid and yield if you have to."

* * *

The knight collapsed, his heavily armored body smoking. Robin slipped his tome back into his sleeve and survied the situation across the battlefield.

So far, his plan had been executed without a hitch.

The princess was in the process of healing Mitch of a stab wound through his shoulder with Frederick guarding them.

Chrom and Sumia once again proved a devastating combination, the prince leaping from the back of Sumia's Pegasus and knocking one of the mage duo out as Sumia dived towards the other, taking them both out of action.

Now it was just Marth and his teammate standing between them and victory.

The Plegian turned to where they stood, his eyes cold and calculating.

The mercenary stepped towards him, drawing a curved sword and giving it a flip, catching it as it fell and thrusting the tip towards Robin.

A traditional Feroxi Challenge.

"Very well, then." Robin replied, drawing his own blade in reply, the cold steel whistling through the air in response. "Let's do this."

The mercenary leaped forwards, bringing his blade down on Robin's, sparks flying and metal screeching as they clashed.

* * *

At the other side of the arena, Marth glanced to his companion, a slightly worried frown gracing his face.

"Marth!"

The masked man snapped to attention as Chrom leaped from Sumia's Pegasus to land before him.

"One question, before we begin?" Chrom called, bringing Falchion into an offensive stance.

Marth didn't respond, instead settling into his own stance.

"Very well." Chrom muttered. "Our swords will speak for us!"

Chrom leaped as high as he could, Falchion posed to strike. At the apex of his assentation, he began to spiral down towards his opponent, the centrifugal force to increase the power of his strike.

Marth parried the strike, gritting his teeth as he felt the impact in his arms.

Chrom continued to press as hard as he could, trying to force the mercenary down.

It was at that moment that Chrom noticed something odd about Marth's sword. The fine blade was very familiar indeed.

"Where did you get that?!" He demanded as Marth forced him away. "How do you have a Falchion?!"

The holy blade of House Ylisse was considered a national treasure as well as a holy relic. It was crime to create a counterfeit blade in it's likeness.

Marth didn't respond, instead following after the prince with a series of swift slashes, forcing Chrom to parry.

Chrom cursed to himself as he avoided another strike. He didn't care how strong Marth was, or how skillfully he wielded his blade.

Chrom wanted answers and by Naga, he was going to get them.

* * *

Robin had quickly found the flaws in his opponent's attacks.

His blows were strong, for certain, but there was almost a clumsiness behind them, as if the mercenary was holding back, despite failing to land a solid hit on the tactician.

Robin was going to make him pay for that insult.

"I know you can do better than that, mercenary." Robin grunted as he deflected another blow. "At least act like you want to hit me."

The mercenary was panting heavily, sweat glistened from atop his brow. Steeling himself, he leaped forwards again.

Robin could only shake his head. If his opponent wasn't going to take this seriously, he didn't belong in the area at all.

Robin side stepped the blow with ease, spinning around and delivering a harsh kick to the mercenary's back.

The tactician rolled his shoulders as the mercenary peeled himself from the hard, stone floor.

He took a good look at the younger man for the first time. He was young, barely out of his teens, if even that. Probably some kid that bit off more than he could chew.

But it was his hair that caught Robin's attention. Snowy white, like his mother's.

The tactician shook his head, dismissing the thought. It wasn't important.

"Look, there's no point in dragging this out." The Plegian stated, settling into his stance. "You need to come at me like you want to hurt me."

"I…" The mercenary huffed, "really…don't want to hurt you…"

Robin's vision narrowed. "Then you should have never stepped into the Arena."

Those words were the only warning the Mercenary had before Robin surged forwards, his blade coming around in wide arc.

A spark of panic sprang into the mercenary's eye as he brought his weapon up, parrying the strike. He didn't have any time to rest. Robin's attacks were swift and precise, the steel blade clacking against the mercenary's Killing Edge again and again until Robin smashed the hilt of his weapon into the Mercenary's hand.

With a cry of pain, the mercenary dropped his weapon.

Seizing the opportunity, Robin gave the mercenary a swift punch to the jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor.

When the mercenary was able to see clearly once more, Robin had his boot on his chest and his sword at his throat.

"Yield." Robin commanded, a firm, if disappointed look in his eye.

The mercenary immediately showed his palms in submission, breathing a sigh of relief as Robin stepped off him.

Robin didn't spare the defeated man a second glance, turning his attention to the far end of the arena.

Chrom had just knocked Marth's blade from his grasp and sent the mercenary sprawling to the floor. The masked man slowly raised his palms in defeat.

"Marth has surrendered!" The announcer boomed. "The winner of this year's tournament is Robin, representing East Kahn Flavia!"

The crowd erupted into cheers of success and loud chants.

Robin smirked to himself as he marched out of the arena.

Another excellent performance.

* * *

"And the prodigal son does it again." Flavia laughed as Robin led his team out.

"Just doing my job." Robin shrugged.

"Well, you do a good job of it." The now ruling Kahn turned her attention to the prince. "You fought better than I expected, Prince."

"Thank you, Kahn Flavia." Chrom accepted the compliment, trying not to seem impatient. "Now that you have the throne, can Ylisse count on your support?"

"I'm open to negotiations." The Kahn replied. "But let's not worry about that tonight. Now, it is time to celebrate! Join me, my friends."

Without another word, Flavia marched out of the room.

"Flavia hasn't mellowed, at least." Robin chuckled.

"…She STILL wants to negotiate?!" Chrom scowled. "We won her the throne!"

"And now she's in the position to negotiate." Robin countered, folding his arms and frowning at the Prince's tone.

"Haven't we done enough?!" Chrom's frustration was mounting. "We bled for her, and she still wants more!"

"That's the way the world works, prince." Mitch chimed him, leaning against a nearby pillar. "At least she's still considering helping you. Some ruler's would've kicked you to the curb after you gave them what they wanted."

"But that's not fair!" Chrom immediately regretted the whine that almost crept into his voice.

"Neither is the world." Robin shot back with a disapproving scowl, clearly unimpressed. "Now, if we want to stay on good terms, we should head to the banquet hall. The celebration is beginning soon."

"Celebration?" Lissa asked, perking up.

"It's mostly a formality. The West Kahn will hand power over to Flavia, then he and his warriors will swear allegiance." Robin replied. "It's pretty much a 'No Hard Feelings' party."

"What are we waiting for then!" The princess almost jumped for joy. "Lets get in there!"

* * *

"I, Basillio, West Kahn of Regna Ferox, pledge my allegiance to our rightful ruler."

Flavia's smirk couldn't get any bigger as her counterpart made the pledge and took his seat on her right.

The new reigning Kahn's champions were seated like guests of honor at a long table, with Flavia herself at it's head.

Chrom took deep drink from his mug as he glanced around the hall.

A rather large band was playing on a proportionately large stage, playing a Feroxi song of some description. People were laughing and drinking as the evening progressed.

The West Kahn had handed his authority over without complained, giving Flavia a friendly warning to not get too comfortable.

Robin was seated on Chrom's right, talking with the Kahns and pointedly ignoring a group of Feroxi women staring at him with admiration.

Fredrick was on the Prince's left, trying to stop Lissa from sneaking a mug of strong Feroxi alcohol.

It was nice, to not be the center of attention at a party.

"Enjoying yourself, captain?"

Sumia had somehow made it through the room without tripping over her own feet and sank down alongside the prince.

"It's alright, I suppose." The prince shrugged. "I just wish I could tell Emm I got Ylisse the alliance it needed."

"You have." Sumia assured him. "The Kahn just wants to make sure her people benefit too."

"I guess so." Chrom sighed, taking another drink and glancing towards the rest of the room.

The moment his eyes saw her, he choked on his mead.

The woman before him could only be called a goddess. She was dressed like a dancer, but shied away from anyone who would think of approaching her. A shaking leaf during a windy day. Her rose hair cascaded down her back almost to her naval.

To the prince, she looked like perfection incarnate.

A fierce blush spread across his face as she approached the table.

"R-Robin?" She asked, in a voice that Chrom felt he would never tire of hearing.

The Plegian gave her a rare smile. "Hey, Olivia. Did you need something?"

"N-Not at all!" Olivia stammered. "I-I just wanted to s-say hello. You haven't been back in a while, a-and it's nice to see you."

Robin smiled. "I missed you too, Liv."

Olivia's face erupted in a blush that put Chrom's to shame.

"Oi, Robin!" Basillio laughed. "Trying to give Olivia a heart attack or something?"

"No, just stating the facts." Robin's reply made the dancer's blush even more visible.

"T-Thank you!" Olivia turned and dashed away, amazingly not bumping into anyone.

"I will never figure out how she does that…." Mitch muttered, shaking his head.

"Wait!" Chrom cried, whirling to stare at Robin, dumbfounded. "Robin, you know her?!"

"Yeah. She's one of Basillio's underlings." Robin shrugged, stretching his arms. "Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm exhausted."

Before Chrom could say anything else, the Plegian marched out of the room.

The Prince barely acknowledged that the Plegian had left. His mind was almost consumed by thoughts of the rose haired dancer.

He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice Sumia's heartbroken expression, or the tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.

* * *

Robin flicked his fingers towards the candle and immediately the flame sparked to life, casting a faint glow around the room.

The Champion's quarters were comfortable enough, not enough to be extravagant by Ylissian standards, but more than most villagers could afford.

Robin reached into his cloak, into the secret pocked sown into it's interior and pulled out a very old and very worn leather bound book, locked with the kind of binding that would take even the most studious scholar weeks to undo.

But the most important feature was the Mark of Grima emblazoned on the cover.

Fortunately, Robin already knew the incantation to remove the bindings. With practiced ease, he recited the ancient words.

The seals released with an almost silent hiss.

Robin flipped through the pages, skim reading the familiar passages before moving on to the new content.

If the Risen were returning, then Grima couldn't be far behind.

Glancing for a moment at his gloved right hand, Robin steeled his resolve.

He would never let that happen.

* * *

Emmeryn sipped her tea, savoring taste of the steaming liquid.

It had been almost a full month since her brother had left the capital, and since then, Ylisse had taken a turn for the worse.

Risen were appearing in growing numbers, not just in the outlying villages but in a few of the larger settlements as well. The guardsmen were stretched thin trying to contain them, but lacked the numbers to eradicate the hordes.

Unfortunately, the appearance of the Risen had sparked more bandit activity as well. At least a dozen new bands had appeared, all near the Plegian border.

The Exalt frowned at the thought.

A knock at her door caught her attention.

"Come in." The Exalt called, setting her tea cup down on its saucer.

Phila quietly entered the room, making sure it closed securely behind her.

"Your Grace, I have finished my investigations into the Plegian's claim." The Falcon Knight stated in an official fashion.

"What did you find?" Emmeryn asked.

"Nothing of relevance." Phila reported. "I visited this 'Grim Quarter', as the conscript called it. However, the people in the area proved very uncooperative."

"Really?" Emmeryn paused, frowning. "Do you have any idea why?"

"I do not know, your grace." Phila shook her head with a grimace, remembering the looks of fear and disgust that had plagued her as he walked through the slum. "The few that didn't hide from me openly cursed me as an 'Over-Dressed Murderer.' When I asked where I could find this 'Jody' woman, they just slammed the door in my face."

Emmeryn's face fell. "I see."

"Milady, if I may?" Phila paused, considering her words. "Why are you so fixated on the Plegian's claims? He could very well be lying."

"Then you are accusing Lady Marribelle and Sir Stahl of lying as well." Emmeryn gently chided her knight. "They supported Robin's claims as well."

"Of course, your grace." Phila nodded, looking ashamed of herself. "That kind of thinking was unworthy of me."

"It's hard to change the way we think, when we've been raised to think that way." Emmeryn smiled gently. "Phila, what is your opinion on Robin?"

"He's a Plegian sell-sword, and not to be trusted, your grace." Phila replied honestly. "Their kind will take an innocent's life for a piece of gold."

"I see." Emmeryn took another sip of tea, pondering.

"Why are you so interested in him, your grace?" Phila asked, a serious frown spreading across her face.

"I want to understand him." Emmeryn sighed. "If I can do that, maybe I can understand Plegia."

"Your grace, Plegia has thrown every offer of peace back in your face." Phila stated, trying to reign in her temper. "If they wanted peace, all they had to do was accept."

"That's just it, Phila." Emmeryn countered. "I need to understand Plegia if I'm to prevent another war and it is my belief that Robin might be the first step to that. If a Plegian is willing work with Ylisse, to leave the past in the past, it would show that we're not a faceless enemy to be hated and feared, but just another people, as tired of war as I'm sure they are."

"You've put a lot of thought into this." Phila conceded.

"I have had time." Emmeryn's gentle smile returned. "Peace is a responsibility, Phila, and it is one I will not run from."

* * *

Morning came much too quickly for Chrom. Cursing his own stupidity and trying to remember how many drinks he'd had the night before, the prince dragged himself out of bed.

"Milord." Frederick greeted as his charge pulled open the door.

"Were you waiting for me, Frederick?" Chrom yawned.

"Not for long, milord. Just a few hours." The knight replied.

Chrom sighed. He had spoken to his knight regarding his more obsessive actions before, but nothing seemed to work.

"Thank you. Gather the rest of the Shepherds. We leave for Ylisstol in an hour."

"Of course, milord." Frederick jogged of.

One by one, the Shepherds made their way to the Arena's entrance. Many were trying to shake off the effects of the previous evening's celebrations.

All but one.

Robin didn't look ready to travel in the slightest. His hair was dishevelled and he had very prominent dark circles under his eyes.

"Robin, you should have gotten more rest last night. We're not stopping until we reach Ylisstol." The Prince chided, folding his arms.

"You mean, you're not stopping." Robin replyed, yawning loudly.

Chrom froze.

"W-What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm not going with you." Robin stated flatly. "I'm staying here."

"But you have to come with us!" Chrom said, matter of factly. "Emm's Mark won't let you disobey me."

"It would, were it not for one, tiny, detail." Robin countered. "Do you know what's so special about today?"

Chrom paused, trying to find Robin's point.

"It's the first day of Autumn, Prince." Robin removed his glove to show his featureless palm. "My sentence was over yesterday."

"Damn it…" Chrom cursed under his breath. He had completely forgotten the date.

'Well,' the prince thought, 'it's now or never.'

"Robin, I have an offer I want you to consider."

Robin folded his arms. "Go on."

"I want you to join the Shepherds. Not as a Conscript, but as a full member and our Tactician."

"No." Robin replied flatly.

"Why not?! We need you, Robin!" Chrom grabbed the Plegian's shoulders, glaring into his eyes. "Your skills could save my people!"

"I refuse to serve the exalted family!" Robin roared back, shoving the Prince's hands off him. "Ylisse stole my life once. I'm not giving it the chance to do it again."

"What are you talking about?!" Chrom demanded. "Tell me!"

"I don't owe Ylisse a damned thing, and I am NOT going to put myself into your service, Prince." Robin turned on his heel and marched away. "I've made my decision. Respect it!"

Running feet behind him caught his attention.

"Robin!"

The Plegian glanced over his shoulder. "Donny."

"How could you say that to the Prince?!" The former farmer demand, looking angrier then Robin had ever seen him. "It's not just the royals you're walking away from! Wha' about your Aunty? Or my ma? Are you just gonna abandon them, too?!"

"Of course not!" Robin snapped, silencing the villager.

Breathing out a frustrated sigh, he continued. "Donny, I know you don't understand how I think, but please, just trust me on this."

Donnel looked Robin up and down, considering before he made his decision. "Alright. I trust you Robin."

"Thank you. Now, I need you to stay with the prince. Go back to Ylisse."

"If you're sure…" Donnel nodded, uncertainly.

"Trust me, Donny. I always have a plan."

* * *

"Milord."

Chrom glanced up at the knight marching alongside him. "Yes, Frederick."

"I can't help but notice that the Plegian is not among us. What's become of him?" The knight asked suspiciously.

"Robin's sentence was finished yesterday." Chrom said bitterly. "He's staying in Regna Ferox."

Frederick had to fight back a wide smile. Finally, the Plegian wasn't near his charges. Even better, he wasn't even in Ylisse. Chrom might have been hoping he would lend Ylisse his talents, but Frederick couldn't have hoped for a better outcome. The Shepherds didn't need a Grimleal leading them to their deaths.

Frederick's fists clenched involuntarily at the thought of the cult. He was familiar with the horrors they were capable of unleashing. How many Ylissian's had already died at their hands, the knight couldn't even begin to fathom. Not a single one of them deserved forgiveness or mercy.

As far as Frederick was concerned, Robin's absence was a genuine improvement.


	11. Chapter 11: Grandmaster

Emmeryn was seated in her throne, trying not to appear bored as the servants finished their work. Phila, like always, was standing on her right, casting suspicious glances at everyone that made a sudden move.

When one of the Servants approached the Exalt, the Falcon Knight had to fight the urge to go for her lance.

"The Khan has arrived, Your Grace."

Emmeryn smiled. "See them in."

It had been several weeks since her brother had opened negotiations with Regna Ferox. Now, the Feroxi were bringing a delegation to Ylisstol to finalize the alliance.

The throne room was prepared for an extravagant banquet in celebration. Tables lined the walls, filled with delicacies of every shape and size. A very expensive band had been hired, and were currently setting up on a raised platform in one corner of the room.

The Feroxi would not regret entering this alliance, this the Exalt swore.

Of course, none of this would have been possible without Robin.

The Exalt frowned as she remembered her brother's report.

"He just left us, Emm!" The Prince had cried. "I saved his life and he still left the moment he could!"

It was clear that Chrom was taking Robin's departure rather personally. He had hoped that Robin would be willing to put whatever grievance he had with Ylisse aside, only for the Plegian to cruelly dash that hope. While the Exalt was certain that the Plegian had his reasons, it was rather galling for Robin to just abandon them.

The large door swung open with a very loud creak, bringing the Exalt out of her thoughts.

The Feroxi delegation entered the throne room, led by a very large and very muscular bald man. His left eye was covered with a black eye-patch and he had both a very large Silver Axe as well as a strung Silver Bow strapped across his back.

At the giant of a man's side was Olivia, trying to make eye contact with anyone.

"Lady Exalt." The giant nodded respectfully to Ylisse's ruler. "I am Basillio, Khan of Regna Ferox. I am here to negotiate the alliance between our nations."

"Welcome to Ylisse, Khan Basillio." Emmeryn replied. "I take it your journey was not overly harsh? I have heard there were storms further north."

"You must be joking." Bassilio chuckled. "A Ylissian storm is nothing compared to my homeland's."

"Beg your pardon, Khan Basillio." Phila asked, glancing suspiciously at the group behind the massive warrior. "I must insist you introduce your companions before negotiations begin. As a security measure."

"They are my bodyguards, mostly." Basillio shrugged the question off. "Not that I need them, but Flavia insisted." The Khan gestured to his companion. "This young beauty," Basillio chuckled as Olivia blanched. "is Olivia, one of my underlings."

Emmeryn glanced at the blushing dancer. She vaguely remembered seeing her somewhere before, but was unable to pinpoint where.

"But one person I believe you should meet is our Grandmaster."

At the Khan's words, one of the Feroxi stepped forwards, his face concealed by his cloak. Finely forged armour was visible through his visible from it's open front.

But what put the Falcon Knight on high alert was the eye-shaped markings on his sleeves.

"So, you're the Feroxi's strategist?" She asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I am." The Grandmaster replied flatly.

"And why would a Grimleal want to aid us?" She demanded, his hand inching towards her lance.

"You misunderstand, Knight." The Grandmaster spat. "I couldn't care less about you. I'm here make sure that as few Feroxi as possible die in your war."

"As you should be." Emmeryn stated before Phila could reply. "However, I find it difficult to converse with someone who hide's their face. It is a formality to remove one's hood in the presence of Ylissian Royalty."

"Very well, Your Grace." The Grandmaster raised a single hand and lowered the cloth, revealing his face.

He was recognized immediately.

"Is that better, Your Grace?" Robin asked.

Emmeryn smiled slightly. "Much better. It is nice to see you under better conditions, Robin."

"Almost anything's better than being branded for a crime I didn't commit." Robin grunted.

* * *

"Now, onto business, shall we?" Basillio started. "

The Exalt had led the Feroxi leaders into her council chamber and was now seated opposite the Kahn. Robin was seated on Basillio's left, ignoring the hole Phila was attempting to glare into his head.

"Very well." Emmeryn stated. "I must admit I am surprised that you are here, Khan Basillio. It was my understanding that Flavia was Head Khan."

"She's staying in Ferox to mobilize the army." Basillio downed his mug in a single drink, slamming it down on the table, ignoring the jump from the servant as he rushed to refill it. "You Ylissians really need to learn to make a good mead. None of this Brandy crap."

"Please forgive the Khan." Robin stepped in before Phila could chastise the massive warrior. "As you've seen, he has had more than a few drinks."

"Don't deny it." Basillio chuckled pointing at Robin's untouched cup. "You were thinking the same thing."

"If we could get back on topic, please." Emmeryn chastised gently. "Ylisse is open to any reasonable request in exchange for this alliance. I have faith that we can reach an agreement."

"Flavia's given me the authority to negotiate this treaty." Basillio replied, his usually cheerful face growing a bit sterner. "In fact, there are a few things we want in return for our help against Plegia."

"Plegia?" Emmeryn asked, confused. "Khan Basillio, I ask for this alliance to defend my Halidom from the Risen, not to antagonize our neighbour."

"But that is what it will come to, should we agree to this alliance." Robin sipped his drink.

Emmeryn glanced at Robin, dismayed at his response. "I would have thought that a man that claimed to care for the Feroxi would hope to prevent further hostilities."

"Forgive me, but I find you're thinking incredibly naïve." Robin set his mug down, clasping his hands. "Putting that matter aside, in exchange for the Feroxi's assistance, our demands are fairly straight forward."

Emmeryn's brow furrowed as she listened to the Feroxi's conditions. They were all fairly reasonable, mostly establishing trade routes and a decrease in the price of imported good, as well as quite a large amount of gold.

Until they reached the final demand.

"We want control of the Summerlands."

Emmeryn's eyes widened.

The Summerlands were a wide strip of very bountiful lands in northeastern Ylisse, on the Feroxi border. They were known as some of the most fertile lands in the Halidom.

"Absolutely not!" Phila cried. "Those lands have been a part of Ylisse for a thousand years. We will not give them up now!"

"Surely we can reach an alternative." Emmeryn added.

Basillio shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Lady Emmeryn. If you want Feroxi support, you will give us those lands."

"What do want the Summerlands for?" Emmeryn asked.

"For food, mostly." Was the giant man's reply. "As you can imagine, it isn't easy growing crops in a tundra."

"Then might I propose a new trade agreement instead?" The Exalt offered. "Ylisse will send a portion of each harvest to Regna Ferox."

"That is not acceptable." Basillio denied. "The Feroxi will never allow ourselves to be dependent on another nation for such a base need as food."

"We can find an alternative that suits us both." Emmeryn tried again, a concerned frown spreading across her features.

"I don't think we will." Basillio shook his head again, taking another drink. "Lady Exalt, in every negotiation, one group is going to get the short end of the stick and, unfortunately for you, Ylisse just doesn't have a strong hand here. If you want the Feroxi to defend Ylisse, we want the Summerlands."

Emmeryn frowned. She had hoped that the cost would be lower, but the Khan was correct. She just didn't have enough clout to negotiate a better agreement. "Very well. I will have the contracts drawn up. Until then, I welcome you and your entourage to stay. There will be a banquet held to celebrate this alliance this evening."

"Milady!" Phila gasped, shooting her liege a shocked look.

"We'll be there." Basillio shot a Robin a smug smile as the Plegian slumped.

"I hate dancing." The Grandmaster spat.

"Robin," Emmeryn glanced towards the Plegian. "If I could ask for a private word?"

Robin's eyes darted to Phila's disapproving scowl before he replied. "Only if your bodyguard promises not to stab me."

* * *

Basillio left the room, most likely to find the strongest ale in the Halidom and chug it down.

"So, what can I do for you, Your Grace?" Robin asked, curious as the older woman's desire.

"I wanted to know a little more about you." Emmeryn replied. "Where you come from, what you've done, things of that nature."

"Not much to speak of." Robin shrugged. "Left Plegia when I was young, grew up in one of your southern villages. Left for Regna Ferox when I was thirteen. Trained there for the next seven years. Spent the last five traveling."

"Surely there is more to tell." Emmeryn gently probed.

Robin sighed heavily, taking another drink. "Why don't we skip the pleasantries and you tell me exactly what you want."

"Mind your tongue, Plegian." Phila snapped.

Robin ignored her, leveling his emotionless eyes on the Exalt.

"Very well." Emmeryn's frown was growing more severe. "Why do you believe that war is unavoidable?"

"Because it is." Robin leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. "I've seen the signs, Your Grace, and they are everywhere. Your own brother was ambushed by Plegian forces just a few days from the capital, on what was supposedly a secret mission. What does that tell you?"

"It could just be an increase in ban-"

"No." Robin interrupted, shaking his head. "It is not just bandits becoming bolder. Those men had military training and were using military grade weaponry. They knew enough to lay an ambush and, if you'll allow some hubris on my part, if I hadn't been there, it would have worked. Plegian soldiers disguised as Ylissians tried to raid the Feroxi border to raise tensions between them and sabotage this alliance before it even began. What does that tell you?"

Emmeryn didn't respond, her hopes sinking further with every word Robin spoke.

"Plegia is getting ready for war, Your Grace. They have been for years, ever since your Father died." Robin shook his head. "Don't misunderstand me, I know you are a very different ruler than your predecessor, but he put you in a position that I simply don't think you can get out of."

"That's preposterous." Phila spat. "If Plegia wanted revenge they would have attacked years ago."

"Kind of hard to attack when you don't have much of a military." Robin glanced at the Falcon Knight, matching her heated gaze with his own. "Exalt Cameron saw to that. Plegia's spent over a decade rebuilding it's military, specifically to take it's revenge on your Halidom."

"But why?!" Emmeryn cried desperately. "My father is dead. His generals are dead. Most of his army is dead. Is that not enough?!"

"Not even remotely." Robin sighed. He was getting tired of the Exalt's naivety. "Your Grace, you might want peace, but this time, you don't get to decide what path Yllise takes. If Plegia decides it's ready for war, war will come. There are some things that are beyond forgiveness."

"Surely there is something we can do!" The Exalt beseeched. "Some way we can end this peacefully before more lives are lost."

"There isn't." Robin stated, like he was explaining a pet's death to a toddler. "There is just too much bad blood between your nations. If you want to really know the extent of the damage, there is only one person you need to talk to."

"Really? Who?"

"An old friend of mine. Pretty much runs the Grim Quarter now. Tries to make sure things don't go too far." Robin shrugged. "Don't get any idea's about summoning her though. I doubt that would go over well."

"Then I will send the guards and have this woman brought here in chains!" Phila snapped, her hard glare growing harder at the thought of someone disrespecting her liege so.

"And after she sends your men back, minus their heads you could just have me go and ask her." Robin replied angrily. "Not every problem can only be solved by force, Knight. The people down there trust Evelyn a hell of a lot more then then your kind. If they saw Ylissian knights dragging her away, you'd have a riot on your hands in minutes."

"I would still like to speak with this 'Evelyn'." Emmeryn stepped in before Phila could growl out a reply. "Would it be possible for you to arrange a meeting?"

Robin tried to breath out his frustration. "Maybe. Next time I'm down there, I'll ask her but don't expect much."

"That is all I ask."

* * *

 **A/N: So, between Salem's Gemstone, College and the joys that come with country living, I've had a very hard time finding the time to write this story. So, you might have noticed that this chapters a bit shorter than usual. I also had the hardest time trying fit the next bit in here before I decided to work it into its own chapter.**

 **Sorry…**


	12. Chapter 12: A Moment of Peace

Robin set his chest plate aside, the absence of the familiar weight was a relief. Breathing deep, he sighed, bracing himself for the night ahead.

He was in a rather large chamber usually set aside for visiting ambassadors.

The Exalt had indeed arranged a banquet to celebrate the new alliance and, as a high ranking member of the Feroxi Delegation, he didn't have a choice but to attend.

So, he had combed his hair, washed his face and put on his nicest shirt. His cloak would stay. A smirk spread across his face as he pictured the attending noble's expressions when they saw him.

"R-Robin?"

The Grandmaster glanced over to the doorway, a small smile on his face. "Hello, Olivia. Did you need something?"

The dancer had changed out of his usual clothes, instead wearing a flattering, peach colored dress.

"Y-Yes. I…I can't do up this dress by myself."

Robin shook his head, chuckling. "Alright. Turn around."

The Dancer blushed madly as she did so. "Thank you, Robin."

"Where'd you get this dress?" Robin asked, gently tightening the laces.

"A-At a festival a few months ago." Olivia stammered. "I don't even know why I bought it, really."

"It suits you." Robin complimented as he finished tightening the laces. "Save me a dance?"

"I thought you hated dancing." She mumbled in embarrassment.

"Depends on the partner." Robin smirked as he saw Olivia's ears turn even redder.

* * *

Ylissian banquets were grand affairs, by anyone's standards.

Lavish decorations were everywhere. Table upon table was lined with decedent food from every corner of the Halidom. A very expensive sounding band was playing from a raised platform to the enjoyment of the duos around the dance floor.

And Robin hated every moment of it.

Everywhere he looked, the Grandmaster would catch the glares that the Nobility thought they were being subtle with. It might have something to do with the fact he hadn't changed out of his cloak. The Grimleal Markings on the sleeves made him stand out like a beacon.

Robin made a pointed effort to ignore the glares, turning back his table. He was seated in a prominent position, alongside Khan Basillio.

"Being a 'Guest of Honor' not appealing to you, Robin?" The Khan teased, downing what must have been his eleventh drink in as many minutes.

"Just can't stand the pests." Robin replied, shrugging.

"I hear you." Basillio shot a glare towards a small group of young noblemen who had taken offence to Robin's presence. One look from the seasoned warrior was enough to make the lot of them take a keen interest in their food.

Robin sipped his drink, his boredom growing by the second.

"Plegian?!"

But apparently, that was about to end.

Robin glanced behind towards the source, a fierce hatred entering his eyes.

"Sir Frederick."

The great knight stormed towards the seated man, his chocolate eyes burning. If looks could kill, Robin would have been reduced to ash in an instant.

"Miss me?" Robin asked, his tone relaxed as he refilled his mug.

"What are you doing here?" Frederick demanded in a hiss. He was still wearing his armour, but he had exchanged the silver lance for an iron sword that he was clearly eager to grab.

"He's with me, Knight." Basillio cut in with a grunt. "You're speaking to the Grandmaster of the Feroxi army."

Frederick froze, horror fighting the rage that surged within him.

"I'm pretty much the one responsible for your war, Knight." Robin had to fight the urge to smile widely at the taller man's expression.

"How did you do this?!" Frederick demanded. "What foul magics did you work to get that position?!"

"None. The Khans just recognize talent when they see it." Robin's smile didn't change as he took another drink. "Not a whole lot you can do about it."

"Robin's position is not negotiable." Basillio added, trying to hide his growing smile. Robin could be a vindictive bastard when he wanted to be.

"Frederick?"

The great knight immediately straightened.

Chrom pushed his way through the crowd towards his knight, starting when he saw who he was speaking to.

"Robin?" The prince asked. "Why are you here?"

"As I just told your dog," Robin gestured to Frederick with his chin. "I'm here for work. I'm the Feroxi's Grandmaster."

"Grandmaster?" Chrom paused. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"It means I'm pretty much responsible for the Feroxi army. I plan the battles, the Khan's lead the men."

"This is a mistake…" Frederick muttered, his cold gaze never leaving Robin.

"And there is nothing you can do about it." Basillio chuckled, climbing to his feet and walking in the direction of the buffet table.

Chrom frowned, folding his arms. "I thought you refused to aid Ylissians. You said so yourself."

"No. I said I refuse to pledge myself into your family's service." Robin countered. "No offence, Prince Chrom, but I'd rather cut my own throat than willingly join your militia."

"Why?" Chrom asked, dumbfounded. "What makes serving Ylisse so horrible, Robin?"

"I have my reasons and I'll tell you when they become relevant." Robin replied, his eyes darting to Frederick and back. "If anything else, It's my decision to make. Not yours or anyone else's."  
"I suppose you're right." Chrom sighed. He saw now that he wasn't getting any information out of Robin that the Plegian didn't want to give.

The Prince turned and walked off to find his sisters.

"I don't know why he bothers with you." Frederick shook his head in frustration. "Anyone could tell him that Grimleal aren't allies worth having."

"Good thing I'm not a Grimleal, than." Robin shot back.

"You are Plegian." Frederick snapped, glaring down at the seated man. "Every man, woman and child in your wretched nation is noth-"

"And a Ylissian Zealot would know so much about Plegian culture." Robin cut the taller man off. "You know nothing of Plegia or it's struggles."

"I know enough." Frederick snarled, his hand closing around his sword's hilt. "I was a part of the Crusade, Plegian. I saw what your people are."

"Oh, yes. You mentioned that." Robin nodded, a humorless grin spreading across his face. "Tell me, how many people know what happened across the border?"

"Everyone in Ylisse." Frederick did not like the look on Robin's face. "They all know what your kind is capable of."

"I wasn't talking about the Plegians." Robin's smile grew. "Tell me, what stories have been told of a place called the Shadow Sands."

Immediately, Frederick's entire body froze in shock.

"How do you know that name?!" The knight demanded. "It-"

"-was burned to the ground, every last resident slain." Robin cut the knight off. "How much does the Exalted family know about your involvement in Exalt Cameron's War? It seems that you've told them very little."

"Now see he-"

"I don't think they know a damned thing about you, Sir Frederick." Robin snapped. "And if you'd rather they remained in the dark about your actions, don't cross me."

"Is that a threat?" Frederick silently drew his blade out a half inch.

"It's a promise." Robin countered climbing to his feet and jabbing a finger into the Knight's chest plate. "Stay the hell away from me or your lord and ladies will see just who you really are."

Shoving past the knight, Robin marched away.

Frederick remained where he was, glaring after the Plegian.

He couldn't know, could he? All involved must be dead by now. Yes, that had to be right. There was no one left that could possibly now. Is there were going to be consequences, they'd have come already. This was all some kind of sick game to get make him lower his guard.

His lord and Ladies were saints, but there were certain things that Frederick doubted even they could forgive.

* * *

Chrom straighten the moment he saw her.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Chrom put on his most charming smile and went to meet his goddess.

She was standing on the edge of the dance floor, trying to make herself less noticeable.

"Hello." He began. "Olivia, isn't it?"

She immediately snapped to attention for a moment before she seemed to withdraw into herself even more, the most adorable blush spreading across her face.

"Oh…hello, your grace." She murmured, looking anywhere but at him. "Y-yes that is my n-name."

"It's just as beautiful as you." Chrom stated offering the dancer his hand. "May I have this dance?"

Olivia blanched, glancing around quickly, her embarrassment was almost tangible.

"Please, my lady. Just one dance." Chrom asked once more, her smile never faltering.

 _'Well, it would be rude to just refuse.'_ Olivia reasoned with herself.

Shakily Olivia took Chrom's hand.

* * *

Emmeryn found the Khan refilling his mug, the sweet liquid catching the light as it left the barrel.

"Khan Basillio." She greeted. "I hope you are enjoying yourself."

"Oh, I am, your grace." Basillio chuckled. "This stuff's so weak I could drink the entire barrel and still walk a straight line."

Emmeryn smiled gently as the Khan laughed, the sound like thunder against the high ceiling.

"I do hope this event has convinced you of Ylisse's sincerity in this alliance." Emmeryn continued. "And I assure you, the papers are being drawn up as we speak."

"As long as you keep your word, the Feroxi will keep ours." Basillio assured the Exalt.

"Perhaps we might discuss a way to further unite our nations."

"I'm listening." Basillio set his mug down on top of the barrel. The Exalt had his full attention.

"I have noticed my brother has taken quite a liking to your young dancer." Emmeryn gestured towards the dance floor and Basillio chuckled at the sight.

Chrom and Olivia were performing a very awkward dance. Olivia had her eyes squeezed shut and missed the occasional step. Only Chrom's practiced ease prevent them from seeming completely chaotic.

"I wouldn't hold out much hope for that, your grace." Basillio shook his head. "I would never force Olivia to do anything of that nature and, no offence intended, I don't think your bother has much of a chance at winning her hand."

Emmeryn frowned. "What makes you say that?"

Basillio's smirk grew as he picked up his mug again. "Wait a moment and see for yourself.

* * *

The moment the song ended, Olivia stepped back, putting some distance between her and Chrom, only for the prince to retain his hold on her hand.

"You are an incredible dancer, Olivia." Chrom compliment, bringing the dancer's hand to his lips. "I hope you'll join me for another later his evening."

"M-Maybe." Olivia stammered, trying to be polite.

His smile growing even larger, Chrom walked towards the buffet table, a noticeable spring in his step.

Olivia quickly scrambled behind a nearby pillar, placing a hand over her heart.

"Oliva? Are you alright?"

The dancer flinched, but immediately relaxed as Robin approached her.

"I-I'm fine." She stammered. "T-that was mortifying!"

"I thought you did rather well." Robin said, a teasing glint in his eye. "You would have been perfect if you'd kept your eyes open."

"Robin! Th-This isn't funny!" Embarrassed tears were gathering in the Dancer's eye.

"Relax, Olivia." Robin reassured the dancer, his teasing tone replaced with gentle comfort. "You always dance amazingly well."

"Ha!" Olivia replied. "I dance like a ham someone dropped down a stairwell."

The band began to play a slow, gentle melody.

"Well, I can't allow you to continue believing that." Robin smiled, offering the shorter woman a hand. "I believe you owe me a dance."

* * *

Chrom frowned as he watched Robin lead Olivia back onto the floor, pulling her close and placing a hand on her hip. Something about the scene just rubbed the prince the wrong way. Maybe it was the way Robin never looked away from the shorter woman, or the way that the dancer was able to keep her eyes open the whole time.

Or, most distressingly, it might be that Olivia just seemed so much more at ease in Robin's arms. Her blush, while still present, didn't consume her entire face like it had with him. The duo didn't miss a step as the music flowed. But the moment that made Chrom's eyes narrow was when the dancer slowly leaned forwards, resting her head on Robin's chest.

"Captain?"

The prince was pulled out of his thoughts as Sumia settled into the seat beside him, something concealed by a small sheet in front of her.

"Oh, Sumia." Chrom smiled, pushing thoughts of Robin and Olivia from his mind's eyes. "I didn't know you were here."

"Mother brought me." Sumia smiled gently, pushing the bundle towards Chrom. "I baked you a pie."

"Oh. Thank you so much." Chrom's smile widened. "Your baking is always incredible."

"You really think so?" Sumia beamed. "I'm glad."

Pulling off the sheet, the sweet smell immediately reached the princes nose.

The pie itself was perfect, the crust a beautiful gold.

But only a single fork rested beside it. Frowning, Chrom signaled to a nearby servant.

Sumia froze, unsure of what to make of it as Chrom sent the servent off. What could she have forgotten? Why did she always mess things up?! Wh-

The servant returned moments later, placing a second fork alongside the first.

Nodding in thanks, Chrom offered the cutlery to Sumia.

"W-what?" Sumia stammered, taking the fork.

"The best part of pie is sharing it, isn't it?" Chrom's smile was contagious and soon Sumia was beaming as well.

"Right!"


	13. Chapter 13: Church Bells

Robin had decided long ago that he hated Ylissian mornings.

It wasn't the bright sun or warm weather that annoyed him. Plegia was far worse in both of those regards.

No. It was the damned church bells.

Every morning at dawn, those damned instruments would ring out, the sound carrying for miles as people rose from their beds and made their way to the holy buildings to say their prayers or give offerings to Naga.

Robin growled, pressing his pillow over his head in a vain attempt to escape the horrid noise.

The Exalt's palace had it's own chapel, a grand structure of pure white marble adorned with golden ornaments and the Mark of Naga boldly inscribed on the massive doors. Atop this magnificent building was an elegant spire, leading up to the chamber that held the bell.

Coincidently, this bell was located barely a hundred feet from Robin's window.

Cursing to himself, the Plegian peeled himself from the sheets and rolled out of bed. If he couldn't sleep he might as well do something productive.

Grabbing his cloak, Robin made his way out of his room, moving towards the training field. He was passing through the halls when he came across the Exalt and her bodyguards as they made their way towards the front gate.

Emmeryn smiled softly as she noticed him. "Grandmaster Robin. I thought everyone had already left."

"I've never been religious." Robin shrugged.

"Really? Not even to your own countries Deity?" Emmeryn frowned. "I thought all Plegians worshiped Grima."

Robin ignored the way the Exalt's escort flinched slightly at the Fell Dragon's name, their hands inching towards their weapons before they caught themselves.

"I don't think you want to have this discussion with me, your grace." Robin tried to bite back a scowl. "It wouldn't end well for anyone."

"Oh? Well, I think your insight is rather valuable. Please," The Exalt gestured for him to follow. "Join me."

For a moment, Robin considered refusing. He knew where the Exalt was going and that knowledge alone made his mouth taste like vinegar. But this was a direct invitation from the Exalt of Ylisse, in the presence of her personal bodyguards. It would be hard enough to win the war without having to deal with disgruntled guards.

Sighed heavily, Robin nodded. "Of course, your grace."

* * *

Emmeryn loved the Exalted Temple. The heart of Naga's Faithful in Ylisse. Every week, she would attend a sermon held by the Arch-Curate, a man who had dedicated his life to serving the Divine Dragon.

The Exalt was seated with prominence at the front of the church, hands folded neatly in her lap. Robin sat on her left, arms folded and trying to ignore the heated glares that the church's residents shot him, specifically the symbols on his cloak.

There was no doubt in Robin's mind that had he not been in the Exalt's presence there would have been an uproar upon his arrival.

"And so the First Exalt Reclaimed Holy Falchion from it's Heathen Captors. Armed with Naga's Fang and the Divine Dragon's Blessing, he smited the Fell Dragon. Never again would our most bountiful of lands be threatened by the foul beast!" The Arch-Curate cried from the podium, arms raised above his head.

Robin scoffed to himself, earning confused glance from Emmeryn.

"It is on this day, that we Naga's Children," The Arch-Curate sent a deathly glare towards the Plegian who dared wear the Fell Dragon's robes on such holy ground. "We give thanks to our blessed mother and those she deems worthy of her divine gifts. All Hail the Exalted Blood. All Hail Naga!"

"All Hail Naga!" The Church's audience parroted, barring one.

Robin remained silent, a look of silent challenge on his face to match the Arch-Curates.

As people began to file out of the building, Emmeryn glanced at Robin, frowning.

"You don't hold faith to Naga, do you, Grandmaster?" She asked.

"Not in the slightest." Robin shook his head.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." Emmeryn sighed, climbing to her feet and moving towards the door. "Plegia is known for their worship of the Fell Dragon."

"Don't lump me in with those fanatics." Robin's scowl returned as he followed. "The Grimleal don't represent the entirety of Plegia."

"They don't?" Emmeryn asked.

"No. Faith is a choice and I have made mine."

"And what Faith have you chosen?" Emmeryn inquired. "Whose blessing do you ask for?"

"No one's." Robin said flatly. "I'm an atheist."

"Really?" Emmeryn started in surprise. Atheism was rare in Ylisse. "But what of Naga, or Grima? Surely you believe in their existence?"

"Of course. I just don't think they are really gods." Robin shrugged. "Even if they are, I still think Humanity would be better off without them."

Emmeryn's eyes widened in horror. A world free of Dragons?! "But Naga is the Guardian of Ylisse! She is the Divine Dragon!"

"So were Mila and Duma, and they almost dragged old Valentia to hell." Robin countered. "And even then, if you truly looked at history, you'd see what I mean. Every time a Divine Dragon interacts with Humanity, they only bring more suffering. Look at the legends of Hoshido and Nohr. They worshiped a Divine Dragon and it almost destroyed their entire world."

"The situation is hardly the same." Emmeryn sighed. "It saddens me that you think this way, Grandmaster."

"I told you, you wouldn't like my answers to these questions, your grace." Robin rolled his eyes as he began to walk away. "If you want to pray to Naga, fine. Just don't expect me to do the same."

* * *

Chrom yawned, covering his mouth with a hand.

He was making his way towards the training field for his usual training regimen. A leader had to stay combat ready, after all.

As he rounded the corner, the Prince realized the field wasn't as deserted as he had expected.

Robin was standing off to one side, swinging a training sword at a wooden dummy.

Chrom took a good look at Robin's techniques for the first time. The Plegian's stance was unlike anything the Prince had seen before, both hands on his right, gripping his sword hilt.

As the Plegian completed another barrage of slashes, Chrom decided to approach.

"Didn't expect anyone to be here this early." The Prince began, catching the Plegian's attention. "Your style is interesting."

Robin merely glanced at the prince before turning back to the dummy. "I guess so."

"Maybe you'd be interested in a spar?" Chrom asked, gesturing to the rack of training swords nearby.

Robin paused, considering before he shrugged. "Sure. I could use the distraction."

Smiling, Chrom jogged over to the rack and selected his weapon before jogging over to one end of the training field as Robin did the same.

"Ready?" Chrom called as they settled into their stances, a confident grin on his face.

"Ready." Robin replied.

Immediately, Chrom sprinted forwards, bringing his training sword around in a wide slash.

It met only empty air as Robin back-stepped out of reach. Not wanting to leave an opening, Chrom continued to attack, a series of controlled slashes following the first.

None of them connected. Robin emotionlessly deflected them aside or stepped just out of reach, always moving and forcing Chrom to pursue him, until at last the Plegian saw his opening.

Slipping around one of the Prince's many attacks, Robin spun, bringing all his momentum and weight into a spinning kick to Chrom's ribs, sending him sprawling.

Rolling with the blow, Chrom climbed back onto his feet, panting in both exhaustion surprise.

"That was a dirty move, Robin." He cursed as he moved back into his stance.

"What can I say?" Robin shrugged as he did the same. "I play rough."

* * *

Emmeryn put covered her mouth in surprise as she watched her brother fall.

It had been sheer luck that the Exalt had found herself on the Ramparts at that moment and come across the duo. With a rare few moments to herself, the Exalt had decided to watch.

It wasn't long before she realized she wasn't alone.

Basillio was standing nearby, also watching the scene unfold.

"Khan Basillio." The Exalt greeted, approaching him. "What brings you here?"

"Just watching the boys play." Basillio replied, a joking grin on his face.

"I see." Emmeryn strolled over to stand alongside the giant of a man. "Robin seems to be very skilled."

"Don't let this charade deceive you," Basillio replied. "Robin isn't even trying here."

"He isn't?"

"No, he's not." Basillio folded his arms. "No offense, your Grace, but your brother's not strong enough to warrant Robin's best."

Emmeryn frowned severely. "Khan Basillio, my brother is the finest swordsman in Ylisse. He has never lost a dual."

"And that is what I mean. While your brother was trained to fight duals," Basillio's smirk grew. "Robin was trained to win battles."

* * *

Sweat glistened on Chrom's brow as he stepped back, trying to catch his breath.

This couldn't be right. None of his strikes were able to make contact. Was Robin truly so far beyond him?

"I have to say, I'm disappointed." Robin shook his head with a sneer. "I was under the impression you were the Captain of Ylisse's military, or what passes for one in this land. But now I see you're just another noble with a silver spoon in his mouth."

Chrom froze. "That was uncalled for." He growled as he settled into his stance once more.

"Really? Because so far, your far from being an opponent of mine." Robin's eyes narrowed as he gripped his blade with both hands. "But then, what else could I expect from Exalt Cameron's son."

Chrom's eyes widened. His fists clenched even tighter as a fury that he rarely experienced surged through him.

"I am nothing like my father!" He roared surging forwards and bringing his weapon down. "Never compare me to him!"

Robin avoided the strikes as easily as he had avoided all the others, his expression never changing.

Slowly, frustration began to corrode the Prince's skill. His swings became clumsy as the need to maintain form and style suddenly seemed less important.

Robin smashed his blade against Chrom's hard enough to send the Prince sliding back.

Cursing to himself, gripped his blade with both hands.

There was still one technique he knew. One he rarely used and one that he doubted Robin could possibly be ready for.

Exasperation still strong within him, Chrom called on the power of his blood.

Blue flames began to materialize around him, coating him like liquid in a half centimeter of power.

Feeling Naga's blessing around him, Chrom sprinted towards Robin before leaping as high as he could. At the apex of his jump, the Prince rolled, adding the extra energy to his strike.

" _Aether!"_ The word tore itself form his lips as he descended.

Suddenly, he stopped, a jarring impact shooting up his arms.

Chrom's eyes widened in surprise.

Robin had met the Prince's blade with his own, but it wasn't the weapon that surprised the prince.

Robin's entire body was covered in purple fire, including his blade.

* * *

"What is that?!" Emmeryn gasped.

Aether was supposedly a legendary technique, passed down through the Exalted line since the First Exalt.

And yet, this Plegian had stopped it in it's tracks.

Basillio chuckled. "That, your Grace, is Ignis."

* * *

Robin's planted feet absorbed the mighty blow without buckling.

Glowing with power, Robin pushed back and with a grunt, send the prince sprawling once more.

Chrom didn't get up. Sucking down great gulps of air, prince could only stare up at the sky as Robin approached, the flames that coated him dissipating. As the Pelgian entered his view, Chrom growled.

"I am not like my father."

"I know." Robin shook his head in disappointment. "But you still let me inside your head."

"W-what?" Chrom gasped, trying to sit up.

"You allowed yourself to get angry." Robin continued like a school lecturer. "The instant you did that, you weren't in control anymore. I was."

"Why?" Chrom demanded. "Why would you even say that?!"

"Do you think Gangrel is going to fight fairly, prince?" Robin shook his head. "No. If all it takes is one sentence to get you running into a trap, you might was well cut your own throat now, because when the war begins, you're going to die."

Without a backwards glance, Robin turned and left the training field.

* * *

Emmeryn smiled to her guards, wishing them a good night as she entered her chambers.

The Exalt's quarter's weren't as grand as one might expect. Emmeryn had never been one for pointless spending.

The Exalt heard her door click shut behind her.

She paused. It could have been the wind.

But her window was closed.

"Hello, your grace."

Emmeryn spun on the spot.

Leaning against the wall was a person. They were dressed entirely in black, up to the mask of cloths that covered their face.

"Who are you?!" The Exalt demanded, glancing towards the door. "How did you get in here?!"

The figure chuckled. From the tone of their voice the Exalt guessed them to be a woman.

"Why would I tell you that?" The figure replied, voice heavy with amusement. "And don't get any idea's abut screaming." She gestured towards a piece of paper stuck to the door and window. "Those runes have soundproofed this room. No one on the outside will hear you."

The Exalt's eyes widened. How…

"Don't be so worried. If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead." The intruder chuckled again at the Exalt's discomfort. "Now, I believe we have some business to discuss. Or rather, you have something you want to discuss with me"

"I do?" Emmeryn frowned.

"So Robin tells me. But maybe I should introduce myself first."

"My name is Evelyn and Robin told me you wanted to talk."


End file.
